


If This One Could Be With You

by lindentree



Category: Friday Night Lights
Genre: F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-03
Updated: 2010-01-03
Packaged: 2017-10-05 17:05:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 40,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lindentree/pseuds/lindentree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After 2x11, "Jumping the Gun", Julie's parents come up with an appropriate punishment for her - tutoring Tim Riggins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a lyric from Sam Cooke's "Wonderful World", an adorable love song if ever there was one.

Julie Taylor could not believe what she was hearing.

"You had better believe it, honey. You are going to drag Tim Riggins through his English class if it kills you both."

"Why me? Are you sure Dad _really_ okayed this?"

Tami set down the knife she was using to chop peppers for their salad, and raised her eyebrows at her daughter.

"Excuse me? _Why you_? Do we need to go over your drinking and staying out past curfew and lying and getting Tim in trouble again? Because we sure can, if you really need to."

"Mom, come on! I've got enough of my own schoolwork without doing his for him."

"Jules, you are absolutely _not_ doing his homework for him, you're tutoring him because he needs it, and because your father and I say so. This is how you're going to make up for that bad decision. Not only to me and your father, but to Tim, too. He took a hit for you when you should have been honest, honey."

Julie's whine stopped short in her throat. She wanted to point out that she had already apologized to him for that, but she didn't bother. Her mother was wearing her 'I mean business' face, which Julie knew meant that her punishment was going to stick.

"Fine," she huffed. "His place or mine?"

Tami scoffed. "He's gonna come over here every day after practice until his English teacher can show me that he's improving. He already knows about it, and he's going to come over tomorrow afternoon. You'll just have to get your own homework done before he comes over."

Tami turned away and resumed fixing dinner.

"It'll be a cold day in July before any daughter of mine is allowed at the Rigginses' house, tutoring or no tutoring."

***

Julie spent the next day in a state of petulant irritation over her punishment. It wasn't that she had anything against Tim. The opposite was the case, actually. Ever since the night she went over to apologise for the whole Riley thing, he smiled at her in the hallways and waved at her from his truck if he happened to pass her on the street. Tim was okay, for a football player. No, the problem was that she was still more than a little embarrassed about what happened the night of the party. She felt so stupid about the whole thing, the entire concept of having been _rescued_. He probably thought she was a dumb kid, unable to look after herself.

It didn't help when she told Lois about her unfortunate plight. The news sent Lois into a tailspin of ridiculous (and somewhat creepy, Julie felt) ecstatic glee, culminating in her begging ceaselessly for an invitation to their tutoring sessions, or at least dinner, until Julie abandoned her half-eaten tuna croquettes and left a sputtering Lois alone at their table in the cafeteria.

Julie was mulling her grave misfortune over for the hundredth time (while pretending to do her American History homework) when she heard the rumble of Tim's truck in the driveway. Groaning, she put her books aside and went to answer the subsequent knock on the door.

Tim Riggins stood on her doorstep, all messy hair, unkempt clothes and aviators hiding the dark circles under his eyes. He was empty-handed except for his keys, which dangled from one hand.

"Hey, Taylor," he greeted her, removing his glasses.

"Hi, Tim," she replied softly, feeling shy. "Come on in."

She walked back into the house. "I guess we'll work at the table," she said, gesturing to the piece of furniture as though Tim might not know what she meant.

Tim nodded, setting down his glasses and his keys.

"So," said Julie a little too brightly, "What's the plan?"

Tim looked at her. "The plan?"

"Yeah, the plan. For studying."

"Uh," he said, frowning, "I guess I was thinking you'd tell me. You being the tutor and all."

"Right!" she replied, "Obviously."

They stood silently for a beat, Tim staring at Julie like she'd grown an extra head.

"Do you want something to drink?" Julie asked, walking into the kitchen.

"Uh, sure," Tim replied, taking a seat at the table.

Julie stood in front of the open fridge. "We've got juice, soda, water... What do you want?"

"I guess beer's out of the question, huh?"

"Yeah, I think so," Julie smiled. She poured them each a glass of water and came back into the family room. "I'm off beer myself, actually."

"I bet," Tim replied, accepting the glass of water.

"Listen," Julie said, setting her glass down on the table and twisting her hands together awkwardly. "About that... I know we already kind of talked about it or whatever, but I just wanted to say that I'm actually really embarrassed about that whole night, and if we could just maybe kind of _not_ talk about it, I'd really appreciate it."

"Oh," Tim said, appraising her. "That why you're acting all jumpy?"

"Jumpy?"

"Well, yeah. You just seem kinda weird."

"Oh," Julie said, blushing. "Yeah, I guess I'm just really embarrassed."

"Don't be. I've done worse."

"I bet no one's ever had to come to your rescue before," she replied.

"It's happened once or twice... Could have used a rescue a few more times."

"Really?"

"Sure," he replied. "But you'll be all right. Everyone's gotta fall flat on their face now and then. Ask anybody who's ever had a drink and they'll tell you stories about times they've humiliated themselves or done something dumb. We've all been there."

"Thanks, Tim," she said, oddly touched. "That's actually kinda reassuring."

They regarded each other for a moment, and Julie noticed Tim had that funny smile he got on his face sometimes when he was talking to her dad.

"Okay," she said, clearing her throat and leafing through some papers which had been sitting on the table. "We should get going. My mom got me copies of your class syllabus and assignments so I'll know what's going on in your English class basically all the time. Sorry," she apologised, seeing Tim grimace. "You've got a test this week, and it's on _A Separate Peace_. Have you read it?"

"Sure have," Tim said, nodding.

"Don't bother lying. It's a waste of time."

"No, I haven't read it."

"It's okay, there's still time. But you'll have to get going. Read as much as you can tonight, and we'll go over what you've read tomorrow."

Tim agreed without protest.

"So what did you do in class today? What homework do you have?" Julie asked.

"I dunno," said Tim. "To be honest, I was at The Landing Strip with Billy."

Julie sighed. This was going to be an uphill climb.

***

Julie dashed through the halls, hoping to make it to Tim's English class before the bell rang. She was going to be late for their tutoring session that evening because she had an interview at Applebee's. She was excited – she knew she could make good tips as a waitress, and Tyra worked there, which would make it less like work.

She arrived, panting, at the right classroom, and stood aside as the door was flung open and students began to stream out. She would have phoned him, but as it turned out, Tim was about the only person at Dillon High School who did not have a cell phone. Thankfully, her copy of Tim's timetable enabled her to track him down.

Unfortunately, Tim was nowhere to be found. Julie waited until the class emptied, but he didn't appear. Cautiously, she poked her head into the classroom, where the teacher was tidying up.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Kramer?" Julie asked.

"Hi Julie," the kind teacher replied. "How're you doing today?"

"I'm fine, Mrs. Kramer, how are you?" Julie smiled.

"I'm doing fine, thank you. What can I do for you?"

"I was just wondering – was Tim Riggins in class today?"

Mrs. Kramer gave an uncharacteristic guffaw. "No, Tim Riggins was not in class today. Call up the National Guard."

Julie raised her eyebrows, taken aback at the teacher's sarcasm. "Is he sick?"

"No, he just cut class, as usual. Why do you need to know?" she said, glancing at Julie curiously. "Oh, honey. Please don't tell me you're dating that boy."

"No," Julie stammered, embarrassed. "We're not dating. I'm tutoring him for your class."

Mrs. Kramer stared for a moment before comprehension dawned. "Oh, of course! Of course you are. I spoke to Mrs. Taylor about it, I remember. I'm sorry, sweetie. Of course you're not dating Tim Riggins. You're such a smart girl."

"Thanks," Julie replied, frowning. "Anyway, it's not a big deal, I'll see him later on for tutoring."

"Listen, sweetheart," Mrs. Kramer said softly. "I think it's wonderful that you're doing this. I really do. I just don't want you to get your hopes up. You're such a caring, intelligent girl. I know you want to help him, but that boy is his own worst enemy, and I just... I don't want you to think badly of yourself when he fails, all right?"

"_When_ he fails?" Julie repeated. "The semester isn't over yet. He's got time to make it up."

"Oh, he's got time," Mrs. Kramer agreed, turning back to her tidying up. "He just hasn't got much else."

Julie stared at the teacher's back. Julie loved Mrs. Kramer – she'd had her in her freshman year, and she had loved Julie and always encouraged her and given her lots of recommendations for supplementary reading. But right now she didn't seem like the same teacher at all.

"Okay," Julie said, turning to go. "Thanks anyway."

"Sure thing, honey," Mrs. Kramer replied. "Don't worry too much about Tim Riggins. He always seems to find a way to squeak by in the end."

Julie left the classroom and closed the door behind her, leaning up against it for a moment. Were her parents the only people who thought there was more to Tim Riggins than a drunk, underachieving jock?

***

When Lois dropped Julie off at home after her (successful, she hoped) interview, she found Tim's truck parked in the driveway. Expecting him to be sitting on the front steps, she was surprised to see an elbow sticking out of the driver's side window of his truck. He was asleep.

Julie cleared her throat sharply. Tim groaned and opened his eyes.

"Hey," he said, his voice scratchy. "Where were you?"

"I had an interview at Applebee's. I tried to tell you earlier, but when I went to your English class to catch you, you weren't there."

He blinked at her as though he was trying to make sense of the words she was using. "Uh, no. I wasn't there."

"I guess we've got a lot of work to do, then," she said, turning to go into the house.

He followed her inside, where he promptly sprawled out on the couch and picked up the remote control.

"What are you doing?" Julie asked as he turned the TV on and began flipping the channels.

"I just wanna check the weather," he replied.

Julie came around and stood by the couch, her arms crossed over her chest. Tim had landed on ESPN.

"That doesn't look like the weather," she said.

"I just wanna check some scores, too."

Rolling her eyes, Julie took a step towards him and plucked the remote from his hand.

"You do realise you're here to study, right? That's been explained to you?" she asked, turning the TV off.

"I know, I know. We'll get to it."

"I have homework of my own to do, you know – "

"Hey, look!" Tim interrupted, looking intently past her into the backyard.

"What?" she replied, her head whipping around to look out the French doors. Seeing nothing, she frowned, and was about to ask him what was wrong with his eyesight when the remote control was snatched out of her hands.

"Hey!"

"Oldest trick in the book," he smiled, holding the remote out of her reach and turning the TV on once again. "Can't believe you fell for it."

"Ugh," Julie groaned. "Come on, Tim."

"I'll make you a deal," he said, "Just Oprah and then we'll get started."

"No! My mom's going to be home soon and if you think she's not going to ask a bunch of probing questions to find out how much we've done, you're delusional."

Julie walked over to the TV, leaning over to unplug it. As Tim stared, slack-jawed, she walked back over to him and plucked the remote out of his hand.

"I'm going to go hide this," she said, waving the remote at him, "and you can go sit down at the table and start reading."

"Okay," Tim said loudly as she left the room. "Whatever you say, _Mrs. Taylor_."

"You're so funny, Timmy," Julie replied in a high-pitched, breathy voice, coming back into the room with a small stack of books in her arms. "Gosh, you sure were great in the game tonight! The way you tried to take that guy's head off, well, it's enough to make a rally girl lightheaded."

Tim grinned at her from the couch.

"Come on," she said, setting the books on the table and sitting down. "Let's go, seriously. The faster we get going, the faster we're both off the hook."

Groaning, Tim dragged himself from the couch and came to the table, sitting down next to Julie. He scowled, resting his head glumly in his hands.

"So how far did you get into _A Separate Peace_?" Julie asked.

"Oh, pretty far," he replied.

"Yeah? What do you think of it?"

"It's great. Really interesting."

"Have you gotten as far as the big shoot-out between the two rival gangs?"

"Yeah, that's right about where I stopped last night. That sure was exciting."

"I know. It's my favourite part. Except maybe the part with the sex change. I didn't see that twist coming."

"Me neither," Tim agreed, frowning slightly.

"I'm not into the subplot about the cult leader with all the groupies, though. To be honest, I never really got the point of it, but that's something we can discuss later."

"Sure," he nodded, glancing curiously down at the book on the table.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it, though. I'm glad you're taking this so seriously, too. Because there are lots of other things I could be doing with my time, you know?"

"I really appreciate it," Tim said, nodding again.

Julie glared at him for a moment, then scoffed. She wanted to tell him what had happened with Mrs. Kramer earlier, that pretty much everyone was expecting him to fail, but at the last moment, she decided not to. "You are actually unbelievable," she said. "You skipped class yesterday and today, _and_ you haven't read a single word of that book."

Tim had the decency to look sheepish.

"Tim, you've got to read this book if you're going to pass the test. You're running out of time."

"Okay," he agreed, looking genuinely contrite. "I promise I'll read it as soon as I get home tonight. Can we watch Oprah now?"

"Wow," Julie replied. "I can see why my parents thought this would be a good punishment."

Tim didn't reply, just sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.

"If you don't pass this test you'll be failing English, and you'll get kicked off the team. Again."

"I know that," he mumbled sullenly.

"Look, what do you do to motivate yourself when you're at practice and you're hungover and exhausted and Coach is putting you through drill after drill and it's like 120 degrees out – how do you push through that?"

"Are you actually comparing football to English class right now?"

"Just answer the question."

"Uh," he said, glancing at her and looking uncomfortable. "I think about Friday night, about the Friday night after that, about playoffs, about state. About how good it feels to take a guy down. That kinda thing."

"Then I think that's what you should do. Think about your assignments and tests as part of the process of getting to state. If you don't pass, you don't play."

Tim frowned, considering this.

"It's not a big deal if you're not the world's best student. School isn't for everyone. But you still have to pass, and not just so you can play football."

"All right, all right," he said. "I get it."

"Good," Julie said, leafing through the papers once more. She stopped at a test paper with a big, red D at the top next to Tim's messily scrawled name. "Okay, here's your last test, on _Death of a Salesman_. Let's go over that and see where you went wrong."

She read the questions, squinting at Tim's answers. "Um, I can't actually read anything you've written here, so you're going to have to translate."

***

Julie was setting the table for dinner when her mother finally asked the question Julie had been waiting for.

"So honey, how's the tutoring going?" Tami asked, checking the pasta cooking on the stove.

"It's going fine," Julie said, as her father emerged from the master bedroom, dressed in casual clothes instead of his usual Panthers gear, his hair damp from the shower, and baby Gracie in his arms.

"What's going fine?" he asked, checking out the dinner and giving his wife a kiss.

"I was just asking Jules how things are going with Tim," Tami replied.

"I thought there was no football talk at the table," he said, sneaking an errant noodle when Tami leaned over the sink to drain the spaghetti.

"It's not football talk, Dad. It's English talk, actually."

"Yeah, well, it's still about one of my players," he grumped.

"Honey, dinner is just about the only time we have to talk to our daughter, so if you don't mind, I'd like to find out how things are going. Jules?"

"I said it's going fine," Julie said, walking into the kitchen and grabbing the salad and tongs.

"Fine how? Is he making progress? Is he reading, doing his assignments? Is he giving you trouble? Give me some details here, sweetie."

"Just so I'm clear, am I talking to my mom, or to Mrs. Taylor, Dillon High guidance counselor?"

Tami arched an eyebrow, planting one hand firmly on her hip. Julie glanced at her father, who smiled and looked away.

"I hate it when y'all ask that question," Tami grumbled.

"It's a fair question," Eric said.

"All right, fine," Tami said. "You're talking to Mrs. Taylor, guidance counselor," she conceded, carrying the platter of spaghetti and meat sauce over to the table. Her daughter and husband joined her, Eric disappearing towards the bedrooms to put Gracie to bed.

"He's doing really well, Mrs. Taylor," Julie said, with a playful smirk, as the family sat down to dinner. "We're making some good progress. He's got a reading quiz this week, so we'll see what happens."

"Great," Tami replied. "Now, what does my daughter have to say to her mother about it?"

"Well, he's only asked me to do his homework once. He'd rather be watching Sports Center or Oprah than talking about novels or poetry, but he's trying," she said. "I think he might like reading more than he lets on, he just doesn't want to seem like he does. You know?"

"I know exactly," Tami smiled. "I'm proud of you, honey."

"Thanks," Julie said, smiling down at her plate.

"Wait," Eric said, looking up for his dinner for the first time. "What do you mean, Oprah? Tim Riggins watches _Oprah_?"


	2. Chapter 2

Tim scanned the party restlessly. Some sophomore's parents had gone to Austin for the weekend, and most of Dillon had turned out to take advantage of the opportunity to party. The house was packed, drinks were plentiful, and the night was young.

Tim, to his great surprise, was totally bored.

He had spent the better part of the last hour watching his teammates do keg stands and body shots around the pool, participating only half-heartedly himself. He tired of this eventually and moved inside, but the party was no more appealing in the house.

Tim missed the old days, when he and Six and Lyla would show up at a party and it felt like everyone and everything revolved around just the three of them. They would drink and laugh and drink more, and everyone would look at them and smile, and Tim would have too many beers _again_ and Six would laugh and Lyla would roll her eyes, but with fondness instead of disdain. Tim would wake up on the cold foyer floor of his house the next afternoon, the pattern of the tile imprinted on his cheek, and he would smile through the throbbing pain and nausea that followed, because the memories were hazy and golden, and memories were all he believed he had.

Now those memories seemed as altered as everything else. They shifted and changed in his mind so that they were no longer warm, but bittersweet at best. The three of them didn't know then all the things that would befall them, all the things they would do to one another. There was no one to blame for the former, but for the latter, Tim blamed only himself.

Shaking himself from his melancholy thoughts, Tim polished off the beer in his hand and let his eyes wander around the room at all the laughing, remote faces. If Jay or Lyla had been there... No. That wouldn't help. It would be worse. Less like being invisible, but so much worse.

Tim picked up his half-drunk six pack and headed for his truck. If he hurried, he could still make it home in time for Sports Center.

***

"Hey, Jules," Tim called, his deep voice breaking through the between-classes hallway chaos.

Julie leaned into her open locker, hiding her smile. She didn't want Tim to know that it secretly pleased her to be called by the nickname only her good friends and family usually used.

"Hey," she replied, as he came to a stop next to her.

"You weren't at the party on Saturday," he observed.

"Uh, no. I'm still grounded," she replied. "There are no parties on my horizon."

"Oh, right," he remembered absently, the concept of being grounded utterly foreign to him. "You didn't miss much."

"Really? Everyone's been telling me that it was the most amazing night ever."

Tim shrugged, then remembered why he had come over to talk to Julie, and pulled a sheet of paper out of his bag.

"Look," he said, holding it out for her to see.

"Oh hey!" she said, taking the paper. It was his quiz on _A Separate Peace_, and at the top was a respectable B- in red ink. "Not bad!" She smiled.

"I know," he replied, smiling back. "Kinda took me by surprise. I've got a test on it next week, though – this was just the reading quiz."

"Don't worry," she said. "We'll start going over it."

"Sounds good," he replied.

"Hey, that reminds me! Guess who the newest waitress at the Dillon Applebee's is?"

"Right on," he smiled. "You're gonna make killer tips."

"Thanks," she beamed. "I hope it won't conflict too much with tutoring, but I was thinking that like, after practice sometimes you could maybe just sit in a booth in my section and I'll bring you free Cokes and you can work and I'll, you know, supervise you or whatever. What do you think?"

"Sounds good to me, as long as it's free beer instead of free Coke. There's a lot of sugar in Coke. I'm trying to watch my figure."

"Mmm, no. Sorry. Don't think so," Julie smiled.

"It was worth a try. See you later, Jules," he said, turning and heading down the hallway in the direction of the football field.

Julie smiled at his retreating back, and resisted the urge to go gloat to Mrs. Kramer.

***

Lois and Julie were studying for their upcoming calculus test in the library, but Julie was having a hard time focusing. Her first shift at Applebee's was that evening, right after school, just in time for the dinner rush. She would be training with Tyra and wouldn't have to be a full-fledged waitress right away, but still. She was nervous, and it was distracting her.

"Okay, I can't stand it anymore," Lois whispered suddenly.

"I'm sorry," Julie hissed back. "I'm just really nervous about my first shift tonight."

"What?" Lois whispered, frowning in confusion. "No, that's not it. I overheard something today, and I didn't think I should tell you, but it's driving me crazy."

"What is it?" Julie asked, putting her pen down and leaning closer.

"Okay, so I was cutting through the field after my free period, and a few of the Panthers were sitting in the bleachers."

"Right. Which Panthers?"

"Ugh, how should I know? Big, dumb guys. Football players."

"Okay, okay. What did they say?"

"Well, I didn't hear all of it, but I stopped to listen because I heard your name. Basically they were talking about you and Matt, and about how nobody should date the coach's daughter because she doesn't put out, and how that's why you and Matt broke up."

Julie stared at her friend for a moment, her mouth hanging open. She could feel the heat of embarrassment rising in her face.

"Oh my god," she whispered. "If that's what they're saying on the football team..."

"Then that's what everyone's saying," Lois finished. "Sorry, Jules."

"No, it's okay. It's not your fault. I'm glad you told me. It's better if I at least know what everyone's saying about me behind my back, right?" She stood suddenly, shoving her books into her bag.

"I'd better go," Julie said, rushing away from the table. "I've gotta get ready for work."

***

Julie got through her very first shift without incident, trying to put the whole Matt thing out of her mind. Her evening went from bad to worse, however, when Matt and Carlotta came into the restaurant and were seated in the section next to hers, and she had to spend the rest of the night pretending to concentrate on Tyra's lessons about how to resist the urge to dump drinks on rude customers.

By the end of the night she was exhausted and overwhelmed, and gratefully accepted a ride home from Tyra. They parked in the driveway, and Tyra killed the engine and turned to Julie.

"So, seriously. What's your deal?"

"What do you mean?" Julie asked. "Did I screw something up?"

"What, at work?" Tyra replied. "No, you did fine. There's just obviously something bothering you."

Julie sighed, blowing her long bangs out of her eyes. "Do you really want to hear it?"

"Of course," Tyra said.

"Okay, you know the whole Matt thing?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, apparently Matt has been telling the story a little differently when he's been talking to the Panthers, because Lois overheard a couple of them saying that he broke up with me because I wouldn't put out."

"Ouch," Tyra said, with a wince.

"Yeah. They were all, 'Oh, that's why you don't date the coach's daughter, ha ha!' or whatever," Julie said, doing her best imitation of a dumb jock guffaw.

"That sucks," Tyra agreed.

"Yeah, it does suck, and it's really embarrassing, because now everyone thinks I'm the lame goody-good virgin daughter of the football coach. Ugh," she groaned, covering her face with her hands.

"Just ignore them. Football players are idiots."

"I just can't believe he would do that to me, you know? I know he was mad, and he has a right to be, but why did he have to say that to the football players?"

Tyra shrugged, frowning. "I don't know. Male ego crap, I guess."

"I guess," Julie said, looking down at her hands.

"Hey," Tyra said, "Speaking of big, stupid football players, I heard that you're tutoring Tim Riggins."

"Yeah, I am. Just for English, though."

"How's that going?"

"It's going all right, I think. He did pretty well on a quiz this week."

"Incredible," Tyra said, raising her eyebrows. "Watch yourself, though."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean it's Tim Riggins, and people are going to start talking."

"That's ridiculous. We're just friends," Julie protested.

"First of all, Tim Riggins doesn't _do_ friends. Trust me. Second, you and I both know it doesn't matter, but if you're spending that much time alone with him, the rumours are gonna start flying. I'm just sayin'."

"Ugh," Julie groaned, gathering her things. "Sometimes I really hate this town."

The only comfort Tyra could offer was a sympathetic shrug.

***

Julie sat across from Tim in silence, trying to work on her own homework while he did some practice essay questions for his upcoming test.

Distracted, she was reading the same sentence in her biology textbook for the fourteenth time when she felt something touch her hand. Looking up, she saw it was the tip of Tim's pen, and he was poking her with it while smiling mischievously at her and paying no attention whatsoever to his work.

"Oh my god," Jules said, pulling her hand away. "You are like the world's biggest five-year-old."

"I'm bored," he complained, sighing heavily.

"Right. Whereas I find sitting here watching you answer essay questions totally fascinating."

"What's your deal today, Taylor? Seriously. Is it that time of the month or something?"

Julie scowled at him. "That's pretty crass, even for you."

"Sorry," he said, smiling unapologetically. "What's with you, then?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Sure," he said, throwing down his pen and leaning back in his chair, his hands behind his head. "Hit me."

"Fine," she replied, likewise dropping her pen and crossing her arms over her chest. "Yesterday Lois overheard two of your blockhead teammates discussing how Matt dumped me because I wouldn't _put out_. If the football team is saying that, everyone's saying that."

"Yeah, pretty much everyone is saying that."

"Well, it's not true!" Julie hissed, indignant. "Matt didn't dump me, I dumped him! I cannot believe he's telling people that he dumped me, and for that reason!"

"He's not, but that's what people are saying."

"How else would that rumour get started, if Matt didn't?"

"He's a Panther. The rumours start themselves."

"Fine, take his side," she huffed.

Tim smiled, amused. "I'm not taking his side. I'm just sayin' Seven wouldn't say that about you whether it was true or not. He's a gentleman."

"Hmm, a gentleman," replied Julie sarcastically. "I guess it takes one to know one."

"Hey, I get that you're mad 'cause people are talking, but you're the one who dumped him."

"Yeah, he seems really heartbroken about it," she snapped.

"Oh, so _that's_ what this is about. The hot Mexican maid."

"She's not a maid, she's a nurse, and I'm pretty sure she's Guatemalan."

"Whatever, she's hot."

Julie glared at him incredulously for a moment before she spoke again. "Tyra was right. You are _terrible_ at this."

"At what?"

"At being a friend," she said, standing up and walking away from the table. "Figure out the rest of the assignment yourself."

Julie slammed her bedroom door and flopped out on her bed, biting her lip to keep from crying. She hated this – the way it welled up suddenly and there was nothing she could do to stop it, and how she didn't even really know what she was so sad and angry about. She was driving herself crazy lately; no wonder no one else could stand her.

Dimly she heard Tim's chair scrape across the floor, and she waited to hear the sound of the front door and his truck. She was surprised when instead there was a soft knock on her bedroom door and the sound of Tim's gruff voice on the other side.

"Jules?"

"What do you want?"

"Can I come in?"

"Whatever."

Tim opened the door and stepped into her room. Jules sat up and crossed her legs, looking down at her lap.

"I'm a jerk," he said.

"It's okay," she sniffed. "I'm just really messed up about Matt still, and then this whole gossip thing, and last night on my first shift he and Carlotta came in and were sitting there all lovey-dovey in their stupid booth... It sucks."

"Yeah," he agreed, sitting down on the corner of her bed. "Didn't mean to make it worse."

"You didn't, not really."

They were silent for a moment before Julie spoke again.

"Have you ever had your heart broken?" she asked, looking up at him.

He nodded, looking down at her carpet.

"Does it stop hurting? Even when you're the one who messed everything up and you wish you could just go back and make a different choice?"

"Yeah, eventually."

"How do you make it stop hurting?"

"Look," he said, "You just gotta get over it. It didn't work out. It hurts like hell and it sucks to see him moving on to someone else, but you just gotta forget about it."

She smiled, sniffling and wiping her tears from her cheeks. "Is that the Tim Riggins philosophy of life?"

"Damn straight," he said, smiling back at her.

Slowly Julie realised how close they were sitting on her bed, facing one another and smiling like a couple of idiots. She could smell the sweat and the grass on him, and see the little flecks of colour in his hazel eyes.

She pulled back and glanced around her room, laughing nervously.

"I feel so stupid, crying in front of you. Ugh, don't tell anyone."

He said nothing, merely nodded.

Julie glanced back at her alarm clock, seeing that it was almost time for their tutoring session to end.

"God, even _I'm_ sick of your English class. Want to just go play ping-pong? My parents will be home in a while, and mom's bringing pizza."

"Sure," he said, standing up. With her still seated on the bed, he seemed about ten feet tall to Julie. "But I hope you're prepared to have your ass handed to you."

"Um, if you say so, but you should probably be aware that I am an amazing ping-pong player. Seriously. I don't wanna brag or anything, but I'm the best who's ever lived."

"I guess we'll have to see about that, Taylor."

***

Julie fanned herself with the magazine she was reading, pushing her sunglasses back up the bridge of her sweaty nose. She couldn't believe it was still this hot in October.

She was sitting on the hot metal of the bleachers, the late afternoon sun beating down on her. She had finished her homework early, so she had come down to the field to wait for Tim to drive them back to her place for their tutoring session. At the moment, her father was putting his players through a series of gruelling drills, badgering them all the while. Julie sighed and fanned the magazine a little harder.

Matt in particular seemed to be bearing the brunt of Coach Taylor's apoplexy, Julie noted. He had the quarterback running twice as hard as anyone else.

Julie's attention was drawn away from the boy wearing number 7 by the boy wearing number 33, who seemed to be waving at her. Glancing around to see if he was waving at someone else and finding the bleachers almost empty, Julie tentatively raised her hand in response. Tim waved again once, then got his head back into practice and mowed down a couple of players. Julie smirked, and reopened her magazine.

A few minutes later, the bleachers clanged loudly as Tim, helmetless, climbed to where she was sitting. Julie looked up to see a paper cup of Gatorade being held out to her.

"Thanks, Tim," she said, surprised at his thoughtfulness.

"No prob," he panted, gulping down his own Gatorade. "It's hotter than a crotch out here."

"Nice," Julie replied, wrinkling her nose.

"Shouldn't be too much longer, though, then we can get going."

"Yeah, whenever," Julie said, holding up her magazine. "I have some riveting, hard-hitting journalism about Brangelina to keep me occupied."

Tim looked at her blankly. "Is that like a country or something?" he asked.

"Brangelina?"

"Yeah."

"No, Brangelina is a portmanteau of Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie's names," Julie replied, smiling at his cluelessness. "It's the thing to do in all the crappy tabloids for celebrity couples, I guess. Like Bennifer –Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez."

"Hm," Tim said, mulling this over seriously. "So you and me, we'd be Tulie?"

Julie laughed. "Yeah, I guess so. Or Jimothy."

A whistle blew down on the field, and they both turned to see Coach Taylor looking up at them, hands on his hips.

"Riggins! Quit buggin' my daughter and get your ass down here!"

Tim stood up and began heading down the bleachers.

"Oh," he said, turning back. "Your dad says your mom wants us to pick up some Alamo Freeze on the way home."

"You're coming for dinner?"

"Yeah," Tim replied, squinting against the sun. "I guess so."

"Okay."

"Later, Jimothy."

Tim jogged down the rest of the stairs and out onto the field to rejoin his team, earning a hearty smack on the helmet from Coach Taylor for his wandering. Julie hid her smile behind her magazine, immersing herself once again in the exploits of the rich and famous.

Practice did not go on much longer, as Tim had predicted. Julie waited by Tim's big black Chevy for him to come out of the field house. He was nearly the last player out.

Julie rolled her eyes at him as he meandered his way to the truck, shouting goodbyes to his teammates.

"I think you seriously might actually be the slowest person on the face of the earth," Julie said as he walked up.

"I coulda skipped the shower," Tim said, throwing his bag in the truck bed and climbing into the cab.

"Ah," Julie replied, climbing in the passenger side. "If it's a choice between sitting in a stifling truck with you showered or unshowered after football practice, I'm willing to wait."

Tim started the truck and pulled out of the lot, heading towards the Alamo Freeze.

The breeze blowing in the open windows provided some relief from the heat, and they drove down Dillon's main drag in a comfortable silence. Glancing over at Tim, Julie couldn't help but notice his tanned skin was flushed from practice and his shower, and his long, damp hair was curling slightly around his ears as it dried.

Tim took his eyes off the road, noticing her stare, and Julie snapped her eyes back to the front.

When they pulled into the parking lot, Julie saw that Matt was already at the counter. Great, she thought. Yet another awkward exchange.

Before she could say or do anything, though, Tim was getting out of the truck.

"You stay here," he said. "I'll go."

Julie was about to argue, but Tim gave her a knowing look.

"Okay," she said, smiling at him before rattling off the family's usual order and handing him the cash her father had given her.

Tim walked into the restaurant, and Julie put her sunglasses on once again. This allowed her to watch every minute gesture of Tim and Matt's exchange, but each time Matt glanced uncertainly towards Tim's truck, it looked like Julie was gazing down the road, bored to tears.

Eventually, Tim returned to the truck with two bags of food and a tray of drinks. He dropped the food unceremoniously in Julie's lap and started the truck.

"I think Saracen thinks we're going out," Tim guffawed, pulling out onto the street with a squeal of his tires.

"Yeah, him and everyone else."

"Huh?"

"Oh, just something Tyra said, that everyone's going to think there's something going on between us, because you're..."

"Because I'm what?"

"Because you're you," Julie replied. "Sorry."

Tim didn't say anything, merely shrugged.

Within a few minutes, they had arrived at the Taylors' to find that Coach and Mrs. Taylor had beaten them there.

Entering the house with food in tow, Julie called out a greeting while Tim closed the front door behind them.

"Hey y'all," Tami called from the kitchen. "Come on in, I'm just getting little Gracie Bell all settled."

Tim and Julie put the food down on the table, which was set for dinner.

"Plates?" Tim whispered to Julie, his eyebrows raised.

"I like to at least pretend it's a wholesome, home-cooked meal," Tami replied from the kitchen.

"She has the ears of a bat," Julie said, laughing as Tim coloured a bit.

"How are you, Tim?" Tami asked, emerging from the kitchen with a happy and well-fed Gracie propped on her hip.

"I'm good, Mrs. Taylor, how are you?"

"Doin' just fine, Tim," she replied, setting Gracie into her high chair.

Coach Taylor came in from the back patio then, cordless phone in hand.

"Hey Dad," Julie said, finding a seat at the table and starting to unpack the burgers and fries.

"Hey Julie, Tim," the Coach replied, running a hand through his unkempt hair. "How was school?"

"It was fine," Julie replied. "The usual."

"Tim?"

"Yes, sir?"

"How was school today?

"Good."

"You go to all your classes?

"Yes, sir."

"Good," Coach, sitting down at the head of the table. "Here, eat your burger."

The Taylors and their guest spent the rest of the meal discussing their days, and the weather, and town gossip, and Tami even let a little bit of football talk go.

"Okay," Julie said after she and Tim finished clearing the table, "We're gonna go study. Tim's got a test tomorrow."

"Study where, sweetie?"

"My room," Julie replied.

Tami threw a panicked look at her husband.

"Um," she said, "Why don't you two work at the table, and your father and I will just keep the volume on the TV real low, okay?"

Julie agreed, sending an exaggerated roll of her eyes in Tim's direction. He didn't acknowledge it, just frowned and looked down at his hands.

***

Tim closed his notebook and set it aside, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He'd been going over and over the notes that he and Julie had made in preparation for his test on _A Separate Peace_. He knew the story in and out, the characters, the themes, motifs, and images – all of it. For once, he felt prepared for a test. He felt like Mrs. Kramer could ask him anything about that book and he'd be able to write _something_ down, at least.

He glanced at his clock – it was late. He wanted to try to get some sleep so he'd be well-rested for his test. This was all new to him, but Julie had assured him that if he studied hard and then relaxed and got some sleep, he'd be fine.

Julie seemed very confident about the test, but Tim was still anxious. He'd done fine on the quiz, but this test was worth more of his grade, and if he didn't do well, flunking the class and being kicked off the team would be a real possibility.

Tim didn't know what he'd do if that happened. He hated to think how disappointed Coach and Mrs. Taylor would be. How disappointed Julie would be.

It had been strange being at the Taylors' for dinner again, welcomed into their warm little circle. All three of them bickered constantly, Gracie watching the volley of words with great curiosity. But it was always harmless; Tim had never heard anything said between the family members that was malicious or cruel. Every disagreement ended with a kiss and an "I love you", even if the issue at hand had not yet been resolved.

It was different from Tim's own family, to say the least.

Tim had never really known a girl like Julie before, either. Or perhaps he'd just never _tried_ to get to know a girl like Julie before. Girls like Julie were the girls who wouldn't give Tim the time of day, if he was honest with himself. Julie was smart – _really_ smart – and sceptical. She wasn't afraid to ask questions that shook things up and upset people. Tim couldn't think of too many other girls in town like that, except maybe Tyra. Tyra had always been smarter than she or anyone else gave her credit for, she was just bored and restless. Julie was softer and less pessimistic than Tyra. More trusting. A little dreamy, Tim had noticed.

She was a year younger than he was, but a million times smarter. Tim couldn't imagine Julie staying in Dillon any more than he could imagine himself ever leaving.

Turning away from his thoughts, Tim shoved some dirty clothes off his bed and, switching off his light, collapsed on top of the covers. He drifted in and out of sleep for a while before being wakened by a pounding on the front door.

"Billy?" he called. He heard a thump and a curse in the other room as Billy made his way to the front door.

The door creaked open and Tim could hear the muffled sound of two male voices, one Billy's. He couldn't make out the identity of the other one. The muffled voices became raised voices, and Tim got up.

"What don't you goddamn get?" That was Billy's voice.

Tim emerged from his bedroom in time for a beer bottle to fly across the room and smash against the wall next to his door.

Walt Riggins was standing in the front doorway, looking dishevelled. Billy stood a few feet away from him, his face red with rage.

"What's going on?" Tim asked. His voice sounded strangely small to his own ears.

"Hey there, Timmy!" his father said cheerfully. His voice was forced, clouded with alcohol. "How's football?"

"You can't stay here," Billy said, ignoring his father's greeting.

"Come on, Billy," his father urged, like it was no big deal. "Just for a couple of nights."

"No," Billy shouted. "No, goddamn it. You've caused enough trouble already."

"For Christ's sake, Billy, I'm your father."

"Oh, you're my father? _You're_ my father. Some fucking father. Are you _his_ father?" he barked, gesturing at Tim. "Are you? You want to know who his father is? _I'm_ his goddamn father."

"How dare you speak to me that way, you little bastard?" Walt slurred. "I can still put you down when you need putting down, Billy."

Walt lurched drunkenly for Billy, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him against the wall.

Tim moved quickly and was across the room in a second, pulling his father off Billy. He barely registered the glass from the broken beer bottle which sliced his bare foot.

"Dad!" he shouted, heaving the drunken man off Billy. He was so intoxicated that he was practically boneless, but he was incredibly heavy, and the weight of him knocked Tim backwards a bit. Before Tim could regain his balance, he felt a fist connect with his left eye, the ring on his father's right hand splitting Tim's eyebrow open. Tim fell to the floor and stayed there, shaking with adrenalin and fear.

"Ungrateful little shit!" his father shouted. "You stay down, Tim!"

Tim hissed in pain, touching his eyebrow gingerly and feeling the warm, sticky blood begin to pour out of the cut. He hated head wounds. They always bled so much.

The brief silence that fell was broken by the sound of a gun being cocked. Struggling to see through the blood now running into his eye and down his face, Tim saw Billy facing his father, holding Tim's rifle. It had been his father's gift to him on his ninth birthday.

"Get out," Billy said, his voice quiet and flat.

Walt stood and stared Billy down defiantly, breathing hard. Tim looked back and forth between his father and his brother.

Finally, Walt stepped back and wiped his hand across his mouth.

"It's not worth it," he said, glancing at Tim. He turned and walked out into the night, leaving the door open behind him.

After a minute, Billy closed the door, his shoes crunching in the broken glass. He turned and held a hand out to Tim, who took it and stood up.

"You all right?" Billy asked, looking carefully into Tim's face.

"Think so," Tim replied, feeling the wound in his eyebrow. "Might need stitches, though."

"Yeah, you might," Billy replied. "Let's go get that looked at."

Billy drove while Tim held an old t-shirt to his head to staunch the bleeding. Four stitches closed the wound, and on the way home, Billy turned into the parking lot of The Landing Strip.

After that, things got a little fuzzy.


	3. Chapter 3

Julie was reading with her headphones on, sprawled out on her bed, when the sound of raised voices filtered through her music. She sighed, putting her book down. Her parents were fighting. Tentatively, she lifted one phone away from her ear.

"If you don't follow through and bench him for this, I am going to be so furious. This is about more than football, we are talking about his education and his future, _and_ the fact that he has a serious drinking problem that everyone seems quite happy to overlook as long as the Panthers win."

"I know it, honey, and you know that I agree with you completely. He knows if he doesn't pass, he doesn't play, but I'm just not sure that benching him right now is the best idea. Football is about the only damn thing that kid has."

Julie switched her music off and stood up. They were talking about Tim.

"Hey guys," she said, emerging from her bedroom to find her parents standing on either side of the kitchen table. "What's going on?"

Both of her parents looked at her, then at one another, unsure of what to say. Tami sighed.

"We might as well tell her. She's involved, too, and she'll find out eventually, anyway," she said, throwing up her hands in frustration.

"What's wrong?" Julie asked.

"It's Tim Riggins," her father replied. "He showed up drunk to school today, screwed up that English test, got in a fight, and ended up causing some damage to one of the classrooms."

"The principal is talking about a suspension this time," her mother added.

"But if he's suspended, he won't be eligible to play," Julie said.

"Yeah, I know," her father replied. He removed his hat and ran his hands through his hair, his agitation evident.

"Where is he now?" Julie asked.

"He's at home, sweetie. Billy picked him up," her mother replied.

"Can I go see him?"

"What?" her father barked.

"Oh, honey, no," her mother frowned. "That's just out of the question. Why would you want to go see him?"

"I dunno," Julie shrugged. "Just to see if he's okay. He wouldn't have done that unless something set him off."

"There's no excuse for the way that boy behaved today, Julie," her father said, a warning in his voice. "Don't you go getting any tender, girly feelings about how you need to rescue him from himself because he's a lost little boy, or whatever it is teenage girls think about boys like Tim Riggins."

"'Tender, girly feelings'?" Julie repeated, incredulous.

"Yeah, honey. Girly feelings?" Tami said sceptically, looking at her husband.

"Oh, both of you know exactly what I mean. He's not some stray puppy. He knows better than to act like that," he turned to Julie. "Under no circumstances are you to go see Tim Riggins. We'll see how this suspension thing pans out, but for now you'll continue to tutor him here. Maybe it's time your mother or I were around more often when that happens, by the way."

"Dad! That's so unfair. He'd never do anything to me," Julie protested.

"Julie, you know I've got faith in that kid. I do. I want to believe he's a good man. I just don't know what else to do, when he does this kind of thing to himself. I just don't know."

***

Julie lay awake that night, staring up at her bedroom ceiling. She wondered what could have made Tim do something like that, something that jeopardized the rest of the football season, when he'd been doing so well with the tutoring. He had seemed to be in such a good mood recently, too; not like last year after Jason Street was injured and all that stuff happened with him and Lyla Garrity.

Sighing, she turned over and looked at her alarm clock. The bright green digital numbers indicated that it wasn't even midnight yet.

Julie threw back her covers and pulled on jeans, a t-shirt, a hoodie, and a pair of runners. Leaving her room, she stood outside her parents' bedroom door and listened. She could hear her dad snoring heavily. Satisfied, she went back into her room and used some dirty laundry to make it look like she was still curled up in bed. Silently, she opened her bedroom window and climbed out.

It took longer than she expected to walk to the Rigginses' house, and when she got there she was relieved to find that there were still lights on. She had been worried that she'd be forced to try to figure out which bedroom window was Tim's.

Taking a deep breath, she walked up to the house and knocked on the blue front door. She heard the sound of the TV, and after a long pause the door opened. Billy Riggins stood in front of her, looking tired and annoyed.

"Um, hi," she said. "I'm really sorry to bother you so late, is Tim here?"

Billy rolled his eyes. Julie figured he must be used to girls coming and going all the time.

"Come on in," he said, stepping aside to let her into the house. He shut the door behind her and walked back to the living room, where he had obviously been watching TV.

"Tim!" he yelled, "You have a visitor!"

Julie stood awkwardly by the front door, taking in the general disarray of the house. Clothes, football equipment, empty beer bottles, dirty dishes, and open packages of junk food were strewn all over, but it also looked like there was broken glass on the floor.

Billy ignored her completely, opening a beer and going back to watching his TV show.

Beyond the kitchen, a door opened and Tim's gruff voice drifted out.

"Billy, who is it? Tell them I'm asleep."

"It's one of your little girlfriends," Billy called. "It's too late, she's already inside."

"It's Julie, Tim," she said shyly, wishing she hadn't come.

There was a long pause during which Julie wished she could sink into the ground. What had she been thinking?

Tim stepped out of his room and into the light cast by the TV. His face was pale in the blue light, and his eyes dark holes. Julie could make out a number of cuts and bruises on his face.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. His voice was scratchy and tired.

"I heard about what happened and I just came to –" she trailed off lamely, uncertain herself about the answer to his question.

Billy scoffed, shaking his head.

Casting a frown in Billy's direction, Tim turned back towards his room. "Come on," he said.

Gingerly, Julie followed him. His room was dim, and just as messy as the rest of the house. Julie never truly appreciated all the work her mother did to clean up after her until that moment.

Tim sat down on the end of his bed, and rested his head in his hands.

"You shouldn't be here," he mumbled. "Coach is gonna kill me."

"He doesn't know I'm here, obviously," Julie said, sitting down next to him.

Tim didn't reply, and there was a long pause.

"What happened?" Julie asked softly.

"Doesn't matter," he replied, not looking up.

There was another pause before she spoke again. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it. But I'm here if you want to."

Tim cast her a sidelong glance. His expression was doubtful and strangely wary.

"Sometimes it helps to get it off your chest," she prompted.

Burying his face in his hands again, Tim exhaled loudly.

"My dad showed up last night," he said, his voice flat.

"Oh," Julie replied. She didn't know much about the Riggins family except that the boys had been on their own for years, with only occasional contact from their father.

"He's going through a rough patch and I guess he lost his job in Corpus, so he came up here to crash with us for a while. It didn't go so great – he and Billy don't really get along."

Julie nodded, not saying anything.

"Anyway, Billy and I went to The Landing Strip last night to blow off some steam, and last night kinda turned into this morning. I was already pretty gone before I remembered I had that test this afternoon, but I headed over to the school. I got there and I tried to write it, but I couldn't really pull it together, and then this guy in my English class started mouthing off to me about Lyla and this Christian radio guy, or something, and I just sort of lost it."

He looked up at her finally, his hair falling away from his face. He had a black eye and a split lip, and it was clear that his nose had been bleeding. He had several stitches holding his eyebrow together.

"Yikes," she breathed.

"You should see the other guy," he deadpanned.

Julie stifled the urge to smirk. He didn't need encouragement, but she figured he didn't really need a lecture right now, either. Maybe later.

"Sorry you had such a crappy day," she said.

"Thanks," he said, looking at her closely.

Julie felt a funny clenching feeling in her chest, and then a profound sinking feeling as she understood what her dad had been talking about earlier. She wanted to kiss Tim. Right this instant, on his soft, bruised lips. He was sitting there with his battered face and his lost expression, looking at her like she was the only good thing about today, and she wanted to kiss him. She wanted to hold his hand and tell him everything would be okay, and fall asleep beside him and maybe make him pancakes in the morning, just to see if that might make him smile.

Her stomach turned over. Oh _no_. No, no. This was terrible. This was the worst thing that could possibly happen.

Julie stood up quickly, stepping out of range of his eyes and his voice and all the other things that were pulling her towards him. No. She was a smart girl. Smarter than this.

"I should go," she said, crossing her arms defensively over her chest.

"Oh," he replied, looking a little disappointed. "Yeah, you're right. No point in you getting busted, too."

"Yeah."

"Come on, I'll drive you home," he said, standing up and grabbing his keys.

"No!" she all but shouted. Tim looked taken aback.

"No?"

"I mean, you don't have to do that. I walked here."

"You shouldn't have. Don't worry – I'll drop you off down the street."

Julie hesitated, thinking about the inevitable awkwardness of the ride home. Then she thought about what had happened to Tyra.

"Okay," she agreed.

Tim did as he said he would and parked a few houses down from hers, turning the engine off.

"Thanks for the ride," Julie said, turning to look at him.

"Anytime," he replied. There was a pause before he spoke again. "I really screwed up that test. I don't know what I'm gonna do."

"We'll figure something out. My parents said that we should just keep going until they sort out the whole suspension thing."

Tim nodded. "Sorry if I made things harder for you."

"You didn't. I'll see you tomorrow at school, okay?"

"Sure," he replied. "Night, Jules."

"Night, Tim."

Julie hopped out of the truck and, after closing the door as quietly as she possibly could, raced down the street and in between the houses to get to her bedroom window. She didn't hear Tim's truck start up and pull away until she was inside.

Julie scrambled out of her clothes and back into her pyjamas, throwing aside the dirty laundry which she'd shoved under her covers as a decoy. She leaped into bed and lay there panting shallowly, waiting for her parents to burst in and demand to know where she'd been and just what the hell she thought she was doing.

They never came, and eventually Julie calmed down and fell asleep. In the morning, her parents greeted her with sleepy smiles and her mother asked her if she felt like eggs or cereal for breakfast.

***

Tim drove home from the Taylors' house the long way, even though he was already in trouble with Billy. There was always something about the lines on the road and the wind coming in the window that made his thoughts a little easier to untangle.

If Billy had told him tonight that his visitor was Lyla Garrity wearing nothing but a smile, Tim couldn't have been more surprised. He didn't know what Julie was thinking, sneaking out and showing up at his place when he was already in so much trouble that his stomach churned at the thought of facing Coach.

It wasn't as though Tim was unused to girls showing up at his house at night. The rally girls liked to descend on him for official (or unofficial) Panthers business at all hours, and more than a few girls had snuck in through his bedroom window for the thrill of it over the years.

No, the odd thing was that it was Julie Taylor, his English tutor and Coach's daughter, and that she had sat on his bed and listened to him talk about his dysfunctional family. She hadn't seemed to judge him, or worse, pity him. She just sat and heard him out.

It worried him to think how close he had come to talking more than he did, revealing more. Watching her serious, sleepy face, scrubbed free of make-up, while he told her parts of what had happened that day, he wondered what her reaction would be if he told her the whole truth.

Tim had always hated talking about himself or his own life except in the most basic, straight-forward terms. He had figured out in early adolescence that it was easy to deflect sympathy and concern (not to mention pity and well-intentioned meddling) by being as cavalier and matter-of-fact about the situation as possible. There had only ever been one person who seemed unconvinced, and that was Mrs. Street, who would always cock her head and sigh, tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, and ask him if he'd had anything to eat today.

Driving the familiar streets of Dillon and recalling the expression on Julie's face when he mentioned his father, Tim wondered if perhaps she was one other person he could not fool.

***

"Tim, this is extremely serious. You assaulted a fellow student during school hours, and caused damage to school property. Our budget is tight as it is. We don't have the funds to replace broken windows and desks all the time."

Tim didn't reply, just stared down at the ugly green floor tile between his feet. He was sitting in front of the principal. Coach and Mrs. Taylor were both there, and Billy sat next to him. Tim could practically feel the frustration coming off all of them.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" asked the principal.

Tim merely shook his head.

The principal sighed. "Mrs. Taylor, I understand that you have been working with Tim in order to improve his grades, is that correct?"

"Yes," she replied. "I've arranged for another student to tutor him in English, as that's the subject he's still having the most trouble with. Before this incident, Tim was doing well and his grades were improving."

"Mr. Riggins," the principal said, addressing Billy, "I think it is incumbent upon me to remind you that although we are aware of your family situation, we have largely turned a blind eye to the fact that Tim is not supervised by his legal guardian, in order not to cause trouble for you both. But if you continue to allow Tim to drink and be truant, consider yourself warned that the school will have no choice but to report this situation to the state in Tim's best interest."

"What?" Tim said, looking up. "What does that mean?"

"What it means, Tim," replied the principal, "Is that if you can't behave yourself under Billy's supervision, we'll have to report to the state that you have no present, suitable legal guardian, at which point you may become a ward of the state until your eighteenth birthday."

"You can't do that," Tim protested, glancing over at Coach Taylor for help. He looked away.

"Strictly speaking, the school should already have done that, Tim," Mrs. Taylor said.

"Coach Taylor," asked the principal, switching gears. "How has Tim's behaviour been on the team?"

"Just fine," Coach Taylor replied. "He plays well, plays fair. Shows up to practice. He's a leader on the field."

The principal nodded. "Let's speak frankly – what are Dillon's chances for the season if Tim is suspended?"

Coach Taylor looked squarely at the principal. "Speaking just about the team's chances, it's unlikely at this point that we could make playoffs without Tim Riggins."

"You've put me and Coach Taylor in quite a position here, young man," said the principal, addressing Tim once more. "Here's what we're going to do. You are not going to be suspended. You are, however, going to serve detention every day on your free period from now until the end of the semester. We are enacting a zero tolerance policy with regards to drinking, and if any of your teachers so much as suspect that you are intoxicated in class, you will be off the team. Additionally, you are to see Mrs. Taylor in the guidance office for one hour per week so that she can monitor your academic progress and help you learn to control your temper."

Tim nodded silently.

"Let me be abundantly clear. We are all putting our necks out for you so that you can have another chance, and so that the Panthers can have a good season. What we are doing here is probably not right – you ought to be suspended for your ridiculous behaviour. This is your last chance. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir," Tim replied.

"All right. Thank you, everyone. Tim, I believe you have a class to get to. You can go. I'd like to speak to your brother and to Coach and Mrs. Taylor for a moment."

Tim stood and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. On the other side, he could hear their soft, muffled voices discussing him. He scowled, wanting to cut class and head out for a beer.

Sighing, he ran his hands through his hair and made his way through the halls to American History.

***

The day after she snuck out to go to Tim's, Julie spent the day in a funk, picking stupid fights with her mom and Lois and even Tyra. She was dreading the thought of her next tutoring session with Tim, as she felt totally self-conscious about what happened between them. Or self-conscious about her feelings, at least, which she was still struggling to sort out. She couldn't get the thought of kissing Tim out of her head, wondering what would have happened, what he might have done, if she had just gone ahead and pressed her lips against his.

It made sense that she was attracted to Tim; what girl wasn't? As far as Julie could tell, her mother was just about the only woman in Dillon who was immune to Tim's charms. In a way she was a little disappointed in herself – she liked to think that she was more discerning than to go for the sexy, broody guy, or the good-looking star jock guy. It bugged her, too, that she was in the midst of proving her father right about developing "girly feelings" for Tim.

But she was quickly learning that Tim was more than he seemed at first. After all, he was still the guy who got her out of an ugly situation when no one else was looking out for her, and the guy who didn't let her get in trouble with her parents even though it meant he was basically homeless. He might be difficult and self-destructive, but in that situation, he was the one who came out looking like a decent person.

Julie wondered if he'd be interested, if he might be up for it. How would he have reacted if she'd kissed him? Would he have kissed her back, taken it further? She had no idea. She knew full well Tim's reputation with girls (and women, for that matter) but he'd never been anything but friendly to her, even tonight. She wasn't so deluded that she could mistake his friendliness for anything else. Maybe that was all Tim wanted, a friend.

Immediately Julie was swamped by a wave of guilt. Tim didn't have many real friends, and she knew that he'd been grateful to her for coming over last night, although he had been a little confused. How shallow and self-centred was she for worrying about whether he might like her back when he was on the verge of getting suspended and kicked off the football team, when his dad was showing up and causing trouble for him?

Julie resolved then to put aside her feelings for him, and try to be the best friend she could be. He could use a friend, and truth be told, so could she.


	4. Chapter 4

It was Thursday night, and Julie was working her very first solo shift. She was stressed, but so far no one had complained or walked out, and she'd been making pretty decent tips. The real thorn in her side was sprawled in a booth at the very end of her section.

Julie paused next to Tim's table, replacing his empty glass of soda with a fresh one.

"Identify three motifs in _The Great Gatsby_," she said, balancing her tray carefully. "Do more than identify – discuss them and make some connections."

Tim frowned. "If I do that, can I have something else to eat?"

"You already had fries," she said, gesturing at the ketchup-splattered plate and its remaining fries.

"I'm a growing boy," he said, his cheeky smile causing a dimple to appear.

Julie raised an eyebrow. "Okay, fine. Get that done and I'll bring you a burger."

"You're even worse than your parents," he replied.

"Hmm," she replied. "Watch yourself, I might revoke that offer."

"All right," he muttered, turning over to a new sheet of paper in his notebook.

Tim worked steadily until Julie sat down across the booth from him, blowing her bangs up out of her eyes with a tired sigh.

"Break time?" Tim asked, pushing the half-eaten plate of fries over to her.

"Yeah, finally," Julie replied, wrinkling her nose at the cold potatoes. "How's it going?"

"Good. I've got two motifs so far... How's my burger coming?"

"Tyra's going to bring it out in a minute."

"Great. I love my burgers with a big wad of spit in them."

"Gross," Julie grimaced, grabbing his Coke and taking a sip. "Tyra wouldn't do that. Not even to you."

"You don't know her like I do," he smirked.

"Even grosser," she replied. "So what happened at the meeting?"

Tim shrugged. "I'm in deep shit."

"How deep?"

"Breathe too loudly and I'm off the team deep."

"Well, at least we'll have your grades covered. Beyond that, you'll just have to stop trying to beat the shit out of people."

Julie waited for Tim's amused response, but it didn't come. He kept staring down at his paper as though he hadn't heard her.

"Sorry," Julie stammered, blushing. "That was kind of a dumb thing to say."

Tim looked up at her. "The kid in my class didn't split my eyebrow."

"He didn't?" Julie asked, confused.

"No. He did the rest of my face, but he didn't do that. My dad did that."

Julie gaped at him. She was shocked that Tim had shared that with her, and she scrambled for the right way to respond. He seemed to be watching carefully for her reaction.

"Your dad hit you?" she asked, her voice very quiet.

Tim nodded.

Julie had no idea what to say. The only time either of her parents had ever raised a hand to her was when her mother slapped her. Julie had been shocked and devastated, and when she was finished being angry, she knew her mother had felt a million times worse. That had been terrible, but this was a different situation altogether.

Silently, Julie reached a hand across the table and placed it over Tim's.

Neither of them had a chance to say anything, for Tyra arrived at that moment with Tim's burger. Tyra saw their joined hands, and, ignoring Tim, gave Julie a penetrating look, eyebrows raised.

"Hey Tyra," Julie said, awkwardly withdrawing her hand.

"Hey you two," Tyra chirped, gracelessly smacking Tim's plate down in front of him. With a "you'd better believe we're going to talk later" look in Julie's direction, Tyra stalked off.

"There goes your tip," Tim called to her retreating back, smirking when Tyra raised a single finger over her head in response.

"I'd better get back to work," Julie said, standing up. "See you tomorrow, Tim."

"See you," he said without looking up, tucking into his burger like they hadn't just been discussing his abusive father.

Julie sighed, heading to the kitchen to catch Tyra and explain yet again that she and Tim were just friends. Nevermind the tight feeling in her chest the other night, which she was feeling again right now.

***

Julie was at her wit's end, and judging by Tim's sullen, slumped posture across the kitchen table from her, she suspected he was, too. Poetry had that effect on him.

"Look, I just think if I have to try to find one more figure of speech in this piece of crap poem, I might actually lose it. For real," he said.

"All right, all right. Maybe we should just take a break. What do you want to do?"

"I don't care, as long as it doesn't involve reading."

"Hmm," Julie replied, trying to think of something that could get them out of the house for a while. "I don't know... mini-golf?"

"Mini-golf?" Tim repeated, his tone dubious.

"Yeah! I mean, isn't that what people do for fun? Normal people? I don't know."

"Do you seriously like mini-golf?"

"Seriously? No. It's lame. It's really lame."

"Right," he said, standing up. "I have a way better idea."

Twenty minutes later, Julie found herself climbing out of Tim's truck at the abandoned quarry on the west side of town. Julie pulled her long hair up into a knot and shivered as the strong breeze whipped around her. Tim rummaged around in the bed of his truck for a moment before appearing with a golf club, a box of empty beer cans, and a full six pack.

"Do I even want to know what you have planned?" Julie asked.

"Don't knock it 'til you've tried it," he replied, setting a crumpled can down carefully on the ground before lining himself up for his shot.

With a sharp thwack, he belted the can out into the quarry. Tim shaded his eyes and watched it sail through the air.

"Nice," he said, freeing two full cans of beer from their plastic holder and passing one to Julie.

Julie accepted it hesitantly. She didn't want to seem like a loser, but the last time she'd drank, it hadn't exactly gone well. Deciding it wasn't beer's fault that Riley was a horny creep, she popped the top of the can and took a long swig.

Tim hit a couple more cans, then turned and looked at her.

"Here," he said, holding the club out.

Setting her beer down carefully, Julie took the club and stood over the empty can Tim had placed on the ground, doing her best imitation of the stance she had seen golfers take on TV.

Tim guffawed, then stepped up behind her and began arranging her arms and correcting her posture, muttering nonsense sports clichés to her all the while.

Julie tried not to shiver when he wrapped his arms around her and demonstrated how to swing the club. Really, she did.

Finally, he stepped back, and Julie tried to recall a single thing he had just said to her. She swung and the club connected with the can, sending it sailing in a high arc into the quarry.

"Not bad," Tim said appreciatively, finishing off his beer.

"Thanks," Julie replied. She handed the club back to Tim and retrieved her beer, sipping it gratefully.

"Any time," Tim said. "Having fun?"

"Sure," Julie replied. "Beats mini-golf."

"Hell yes it beats mini-golf," Tim scoffed, lining up another shot.

"I bet this is where you take all the girls," Julie teased, smirking at his bent head.

"No," he replied, not looking up. "Usually I come here to be alone."

"Oh," she said, not sure how to respond to that. She elected to change the subject instead. "Where'd you learn so much about golf? I kinda thought you were all football, all the time."

"My dad and Billy are the real golfers," he replied.

"Right," she said, recalling the awkward dinner conversation from over a year ago, how things had become instantly tense between the two brothers upon the mention of their father.

"So did your dad teach you to golf?"

"Yeah," he replied, hitting the can with another sharp crack.

"How old were you?"

"I don't really want to talk about my dad," Tim said, standing up and leaning a hand on the golf club.

"Oh," Julie stammered. "Of course not. Sorry."

"No, it's okay – it's just. I just don't want to."

"It's okay, Tim," Julie replied, smiling what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

Tim gave her a funny sort of look that Julie couldn't really identify, then turned and began setting up another can.

Julie finished her beer and tossed him the can before opening up a second one and wandering over to the truck. Leaning back, she saw that the sky was darkening quickly, and stars were beginning to appear. She climbed up on the hood of the truck and leaned back against the windshield, pulling her jean jacket around her against the cool night air. She sipped her beer, letting it warm her from the inside, and looked up at the emerging stars. She thought of absolutely nothing at all.

It wasn't until she felt Tim gently shaking her that she even knew she had fallen asleep, right there on the hood of his truck. She opened her bleary eyes to see Tim's face looming over her, smirking.

"I sure know how to show a girl a good time," he said, shaking his head in mock dismay. "She falls asleep on the hood of my truck."

"Oh god, sorry!" Julie said, sliding shakily off.

"Don't say sorry," Tim replied, smiling. "It was cute."

"Ah, cute. My old friend cute. Cute like a pug dog, right?"

"Yeah, cute," Tim frowned, opening the driver's side door and getting in.

"Just what a girl wants to hear!" Julie griped, climbing in next to him.

"Well, yeah," he replied, starting the engine and pulling back out onto the bumpy gravel road.

"Tim, a girl wants to be told she's beautiful, or gorgeous, or hot, or sexy. Anything but _cute_."

Tim didn't respond for a minute, merely watched the road. Julie had just begun to feel awkward for insisting on being insulted when he suddenly spoke.

"You realise you're a 10, right?"

"A 10?" Julie repeated.

"Yeah, a 10."

"What's a 10?"

"A knock-out," Tim replied. "Just about every guy at Dillon High would sell a kidney to get a date with you."

"I – what?" Julie stammered, staring across the truck at him.

"Seriously. My dumbass teammates talk shit about you because they're all just jealous that Saracen got to you first."

Julie wavered between feeling flattered and insulted.

"Then why don't I get asked out on dates? Like, ever?"

"They're intimidated," Tim replied sagely.

"Intimidated?"

"Sure. You're beautiful, super hot, funny, smart, and most guys are pretty terrified of both your parents. It's too much."

"Great," laughed Julie. "So I'm not going to get a date between now and college, basically?"

"Yeah," he replied, glancing at her. "Unless one of those boys grows a pair, obviously."

"I won't hold my breath," she said. "But thanks."

Tim nodded. "Sorry if I bored you tonight."

"You didn't bore me," Julie replied. "It was peaceful. I liked it."

Tim smiled that small, pleased smile of his. It was very different from his cat-who-ate-the-canary smirk, Julie thought.

"Maybe we could go again," he said as he turned the truck down her street and pulled up in front of the Taylor house.

"Absolutely," she replied. "Next time you want to make a jailbreak from English."

"I'll hold you to that," he said, reaching into the glove compartment and handing her a travel-sized bottle of mouthwash.

Julie stared at it, then looked across the cab at Tim.

"I really think you have a drinking problem," she said.

"No," he replied, laughing. "So you don't walk in there smelling like a brewery."

"Oh, right," she said, taking a swig. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"It's all in the planning," Tim nodded, as Julie spat the mouthwash out onto the street.

"Thanks," Julie said, gathering her things and opening the door. "I had a good time."

"Me too," Tim replied. "Night, Jules."

"Night!"

As Julie walked up to her house and turned at the door to wave at Tim, who waved back as he drove off, she tried not to think about how the evening had felt more like a date than like a break from studying.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she walked into the house and came face to face with her mother and father.

"Where have you been?" her father asked tightly, his arms crossed over his chest. He was furious.

"I'm not late," Julie protested immediately. "It's not after curfew!"

"Answer the question," he replied.

Julie glanced over at her mother, whose face was taut with anxiety. Julie frowned.

"I was out with Tim. What's the big deal?"

Her father turned and looked at her mother, and the two shared some silent conversation Julie was not privy to.

"I knew this was a bad idea," her father said, seemingly to himself, as he turned and walked into the living room. Tami gave Julie a gentle nudge in the back, and she reluctantly followed her father into the house.

"Sit down," her father said, pointing at the couch.

Silently, Julie obeyed.

"Now," he continued, "I want you to explain to me exactly where you were and what you did tonight. No lies."

Looking up at her anxious parents, Julie felt her heart sink. How was she supposed to tell them the whole truth of what she and Tim did without getting them both in a lot of trouble? She and Tim had just been having fun as friends. Maybe they shouldn't have been drinking, but what did it matter? They hadn't had that much, and nothing happened.

"Okay," Julie replied. "We were here, studying, and we couldn't really focus and we just needed a break, so we drove out to the quarry and hit stuff with golf clubs for a couple hours."

Her parents stared.

"Hit stuff with golf clubs?" her father repeated.

"For a couple of hours?" her mother chimed in.

"Yes. Tim taught me how to swing a golf club, and then he drove me home. We were going stir crazy."

"That's all that happened?" her father asked, giving her a searching look.

"Yes, that's all that happened."

"That's all that happened with _Tim Riggins_?" her mother asked, looking sceptical.

Julie scowled. "We're just friends, mom."

"Well, honey, I get that, but I think we all know that Tim Riggins doesn't have too many girl friends who aren't _girlfriends_."

"That's so unfair," Julie complained. "Besides, if you didn't want us to be friends, why did you choose tutoring him as my punishment? You should have just gotten Landry to do it."

"He refused," Tami replied.

"I guess we thought you were smarter than to get involved with him," her father said.

"Involved? I told you, we're just friends!"

"There's no such thing as girls being just friends with Tim Riggins!" her father snapped back, his voice rising.

"You're overreacting _again_," Julie snapped. "This is just like last time when you acted like a complete jerk to him even though nothing happened, only this time I'm telling you the truth right now. _Nothing happened_!"

"Okay, okay," Tami said, holding up her hands. "Let's not do this tonight. It's late, and it's time we all went to bed."

Looking annoyed, Eric acquiesced and went to check on baby Gracie. Julie stalked off to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

When Julie entered her bedroom, she found her mother sitting on the edge of her bed.

"Hey, sweetheart," she said softly. "You wanna close the door so we can talk for a minute?"

Perturbed, Julie closed the door behind her and stood with her arms crossed.

"Come on," Tami urged. "I know you're upset, but just come sit and talk to me, okay?"

Julie sat down next to her mother, her arms still crossed.

"Okay," Tami said, inhaling a deep breath like she was about to head into a battle. "First of all, don't be angry with your father, he just worries about you. We both do."

"Yeah, I've noticed," Julie sulked.

"Now, come on, you know we do it because we love you and we don't want to see you get hurt."

"I know."

"Good. Now, can I ask you something?"

"Yes," Julie replied, hesitant.

"Okay. Do you have any feelings for Tim?"

"Feelings?"

"You know what I mean."

Julie glanced at her mother, unsure of what to say, unsure of what her own answer truly was.

"I don't know," she said, after a pause. "I mean, I like him. As a friend. I want him to do better at school and keep playing football and maybe get a scholarship."

Tami nodded, considering this. "And you don't feel anything more for him beyond that?"

"No, I don't have a crush on Tim Riggins," Julie said, sighing.

"Okay," Tami replied. "It's just... Sweetheart, I knew boys like Tim in high school. I think he's a good kid who could have a bright future ahead of him if he doesn't sabotage it, and I think he's got a good heart. But he's troubled, sweetie, and he's had a really rough upbringing. I think it's wonderful that you're being so great about tutoring him and that you're a friend to him. I think he needs that. But I don't want you to become more involved. You'll only get your heart broken. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yeah, I do," Julie replied, truthfully. Her mother was right, after all. Any weird, uncomfortable, heart-pounding, stomach-flipping feelings she'd been having for Tim had to be squashed. Fast.

"Boys like Tim are pretty irresistible to teenage girls," her mother sighed. "Not just teenage girls, actually."

"How _is_ Aunt Shelly, by the way?" Julie smirked.

"Lord," Tami replied, rolling her eyes. "Don't remind me."

Julie looked at her mother, who looked back at her, her eyes tender.

"I just love you so much," she said, opening her arms to hug her daughter. "You're a good girl."

"I love you, too," Julie smiled against her mother's shoulder, hugging her back.

After her mother said goodnight and left the room, Julie sat for a while, just staring at her bedroom wall.

Repress all those pathetic feelings she'd been having lately about how funny and unexpectedly sweet Tim Riggins was?

No problem at all.

***

"Tutoring run late?"

Billy was sprawled on the couch, beer in hand, when Tim got home after dropping Julie off. He dumped his stuff by the door and took the beer his brother held out to him.

"Yeah," Tim replied, stretching out in the chair.

Billy scoffed. "I'll bet."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tim asked, narrowing his eyes at his brother.

"Nothing," Billy shrugged, not looking away from the TV. "I'm just not sure what they're all thinking at that school, giving you that cute little thing as a tutor."

"She's the coach's daughter," Tim replied.

"Is that supposed to convince me that you're _not_ hitting it?"

"Shut up," Tim scowled. "It's not like that."

"You are seriously telling me that you're spending all that time alone with her, unsupervised, and you're _not_ banging the hell out of her? When she's all coming over here in the middle of the night to _check on you_?"

"Fuck off," Tim muttered, getting up and leaving his open beer untouched. "I'm going to bed."

Tim slammed his bedroom door behind him and collapsed face first on his bed. He had never minded sharing his sexual exploits with his brother in the past, except of course where it came to certain women they had both been involved with. But Billy even joking about Julie that way annoyed Tim. Maybe because it really wasn't like that, or maybe because Billy didn't seem to take the tutoring thing seriously.

Rolling over onto his back, Tim observed the collection of _Sports Illustrated_ centrefolds he had tacked to his ceiling. Absently, he thought about how, that evening, he had been waxing poetic about golf and football for several minutes before he paused for a response from Julie and didn't get one. He had looked up and found her lying on the hood of his truck, back against the windshield. Dropping his golf club and coming to stand by the truck, he saw that she was fast asleep, her legs crossed at the ankles, her arms tucked carefully against her chest, the cool night breeze loosening wisps of blonde hair from her ponytail.

He stood and observed her for a time, wondering what he should do. She looked so peaceful and comfortable, but it was getting late and he didn't want to get either of them in trouble. Eventually he started to feel like a creep just standing there watching her, so he nudged her arm, trying to ignore the way she came slowly awake and smiled when she saw him.

Just like he'd ignored the sweet smell of her hair and the way her petite frame tucked perfectly into his when he showed her how to swing a golf club.

Rubbing his eyes tiredly, Tim switched out his light and fell asleep almost right away. He dreamed that he was alone in the middle of the football field. It was night time, and all the lights were on, but he seemed to be the only person in the stadium. Gradually he became aware of another presence, and turned around to see Julie standing a few yards down the field from him. She was wearing jeans and her green army jacket, hands in her pockets. She was smiling at him.

"You have to catch me," she teased, turning suddenly and running towards the end zone. He chased after her, but no matter how fast and agile he tried to be, she always managed to escape his reach, her laughter ringing around him and his fingertips just touching the ends of her long hair.

The next morning, Tim found a twenty dollar bill on the kitchen counter, next to a note which read:

_Saw your last English quiz. Sorry. Pizza tonight?? – B_

Tim smiled, pocketing the bill. He found a pen on the counter and scrawled a messy, "Yes" at the bottom of the note before grabbing an open box of Pop Tarts and heading out the door.


	5. Chapter 5

It was Friday night in Dillon, which meant one thing: football.

The Panthers were playing a home game against the Thompson Wildcats. The teams were very evenly matched, and at the start of the fourth quarter, the score was tied.

Julie stood in her usual spot in the stands, her mother on one side of her and Tyra on the other. Billy was standing on the other side of Tyra, watching his brother intensely.

"Tim's sure having a good game," Tami called down to Billy during a brief break in play, right after Tim made a spectacular hit on the Wildcats offense.

"Yeah," Billy agreed. Julie could see the pride and anxiety in his eyes. "He's been working real hard, getting serious."

"He's doing real well, right Julie?" her mother prompted.

"Yeah," Julie replied, awkwardly. "He's doing great."

She glanced at Billy, who was giving her a knowing look. She blushed. In between them, Tyra rolled her eyes and elbowed Billy hard in the ribs.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, glaring at Tyra.

"What's that?" Tami asked, not taking her eyes from the field.

"Nothing," Billy said, returning his attention to the game.

Julie turned back to the game too, hoping her mother hadn't seen the look she got from Billy.

They watched as Matt made a pass to Smash, who ran down the field only to be blocked unexpectedly by the Thompson defence. As one of the opposing players moved to tackle him, he threw the ball to Tim, who caught it and, dodging a few opponents of his own, made for the end zone.

The entire town of Dillon was on its feet as Tim leaped over a Thompson player and crashed triumphantly to the turf.

Julie threw her arms in the air, screaming herself hoarse as the Dillon side erupted in cheers and the clock hit zero. Julie watched as Tim rolled to his feet, throwing the ball down and smacking into his teammates for a raucous group hug. He removed his helmet, and even from up in the bleachers, Julie could see the joy all over his face. Something in her chest squeezed as she looked at him. Her eyes stung and she felt like she could burst with pride and happiness. She felt like crying and laughing all at once.

That sinking feeling of realisation returned, leaving her stomach cold. In that very instant, she knew she was in love with Tim Riggins.

How could she be so stupid?

Within seconds, everyone was out on the field celebrating with the team. Tami disappeared to find her husband, and Julie was left alone as Tyra and Billy left to find their respective loved ones, too. Glancing around at the jubilant crowd, Julie caught sight of Matt opening his arms to Carlotta, while his grandma stood by, beaming.  
Julie watched as Matt and Carlotta embraced; she could see the closeness between them. Clutching her arms protectively against her chest, Julie tried not to feel sad and jealous and heartbroken, but the tears welled up anyway. She also couldn't help but feel that this was it. There was nothing more she could do; Matt had moved on. Alone in a field full of people, Julie took a deep breath and exhaled, doing her best to just let it go. She wiped the tears from her cheeks.

"Hey Jules," came a deep voice from behind her.

Julie turned around and found a sweaty, gleeful Tim standing there in his dirty uniform, holding his helmet and grinning at her. She couldn't help but grin back.

"Hey Tim," she said, "Great game. You were amazing."

"Thanks," he said, pleased. He looked at her closely, his smile turning to a frown. Julie glanced over her shoulder at Matt and Carlotta, then back at Tim, who followed her line of sight. Comprehension dawned on Tim's face.

"Come on," he said, resting his hand against her back and walking in the opposite direction from Matt and Carlotta. "Victory party at my house. Let's see if we can't get you paroled for one night."

***

By some miracle, Julie's parents agreed to Tim's polite and very sincere request that Julie be allowed to go back to his place for a party, on the condition that Julie be ready and waiting outside at midnight to be picked up. Julie could only hypothesize that the victory had gone to her father's head.

Deciding not to push her luck, she refused all the drinks offered to her at Tim's place. Unfortunately, she was apparently the only one, for the house was packed with drunken football players, cheerleaders, rally girls, and students. As such, the party was turning out to be more obnoxious than fun. Tim had spent most of the evening by his empty pool, holding court with the other Panthers.

Julie had managed to avoid Matt so far, but when she came across Riley the Creep chatting up an extremely intoxicated freshman rally girl, she seriously considered calling her mother to come early. Thankfully, at that moment, she spotted Tyra heading out to the backyard.

Catching up with her friend on the patio, Julie pulled her aside so they could talk.

"Hey," Tyra said, surprised. "Didn't expect to see you here. Aren't you grounded?"

"Yeah, I think so," Julie replied. "But Tim talked my parents into letting me out to celebrate."

"Really?" Tyra asked, nonplussed.

"I know, it's weird."

"Yeah, it _is_ weird. So where have you been lately? I know you've been grounded, but I feel like I haven't seen you at all except at work."

"Oh, you know," Julie said breezily, "I guess I've been pretty busy with tutoring Tim and all that."

"Right," Tyra replied, shaking her head in disbelief.

"What?"

"I've known Tim a pretty long time, and I guess I just find it hard to believe that you two spend that much time studying."

"Yeah, you and everyone else in the world seem to think that. For your information, he's working hard and doing really well."

"All right, don't get all defensive."

"Sorry," Julie said, looking down at her feet. "It's just – everyone keeps saying stuff like that to me, and it's frustrating because we're _just friends_, we're really just friends, and no one believes that, and I'm like, okay, I know this is Tim Riggins and he has this reputation, and he's hot and charming and funny and weirdly sweet sometimes and everything, but –"

"I'm sorry," Tyra said, blinking rapidly, "Did you just say 'weirdly sweet'?"

"Uh, yes," Julie replied, apprehensive.

Tyra stared at her for a moment before speaking again.

"Oh my god. You _like_ him."

"No I don't!" Julie protested.

"You totally do. You're blushing right now. Oh my god." Mouth agape, Tyra grabbed Julie by the arm and steered her to a secluded spot, away from the other party-goers.

"Spill the whole story right now, and don't even bother lying," Tyra demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Wh-what?" Julie stammered. "Wait, are you mad at me because I like Tim?"

"What? No, I don't give a crap about that jackass, it's you I'm worried about. I think you might need a shrink or an exorcism or something."

"Ugh, Tyra. It's horrible," Julie said, burying her face in her hands and groaning.

"I know it is, honey," Tyra soothed. "Just spill."

"I don't know. I only just figured it out tonight. I mean, I think I started sort of having these feelings when he almost got suspended for fighting and I went over to his house to see him and he was all beaten up and he told me about what happened, and I sort of wanted to like, make it better or something."

"Go on."

"We've been getting to be pretty good friends, I guess, hanging out and stuff. Then tonight I watched him score that winning touchdown, and he was so happy, and I was just so proud of him that I could burst, you know?"

Tyra nodded, her mouth in a taut line.

"And I've had a couple of dreams about him," Julie said, looking away. "Um, sexy dreams."

"What are you gonna do?"

"I don't think there's anything _to_ do," Julie admitted. "We're friends, but I think he thinks of me as, like, a friend or a sister or something, you know? Plus my parents would go crazy."

Tyra nodded, mulling it over. "Look, I can't tell you what to do, but I will tell you this: Tim can be really vulnerable and sweet when he wants to be, but in the end, he's selfish, and he'll choose himself over you any day of the week. Which means that if you two are dating and there's a cute new rally girl around, he's not even going to hesitate before sleeping with her. Are you prepared for that?"

"No," Julie replied, her heart sinking. "No, I'm not."

Tyra smiled sadly. "Sorry, Jules. I understand completely, believe me, but I just don't want to see you get hurt. Don't waste yourself on him."

"You're right," Julie said, sighing.

"Speak of the devil," Tyra said, glaring pointedly towards the pool. Tim and one of the rally girls were doing body shots while the team cheered them on.

"Oh my god," Julie moaned. "I have actually lost my mind."

"Come on," Tyra said, gently leading Julie by the arm. "I'll drive you home. This party's lame anyway."

***

At ten minutes to midnight, an extremely drunk Tim began searching for Julie. He wanted to make sure she was outside on time, in the hopes that he could impress upon the Taylors that he wasn't a total irresponsible dumbass.

He couldn't find her anywhere. She wasn't by the pool or the living room. Somewhat alarmed, Tim checked the bedrooms, the bathroom, and the garage, and although he found plenty of couples making use of those spaces, he was both relieved and confused to find that Julie was not a part of any of them.

Tim started asking around for her and found nothing until he asked some JV Panther whose name he didn't know if he'd seen Julie Taylor.

"Sure, man. She left with Tyra Collette like half an hour ago. Damn," he slurred, "There's a sandwich I wouldn't mind being the meat for, or whatever, if you know what I'm saying."

"Shut up," Tim muttered, turning away in confusion.

"Hey Tim," came a bright voice. It was Katie Miller, one of the rally girls. Katie was cute and had long blond hair. Tim smiled, reaching out and tugging gently on the ends of her hair. Long, shiny blond hair.

"Hey Katie," he said, drunkenly grinning what he hoped was an enticing grin. Apparently it was, because Katie smiled back and moved in closer.

"We're all really proud of you, Tim," she said.

"Thanks," he replied, swaying slightly on his feet.

"All the rally girls thought we ought to give you something special, since you made such a great effort."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," she smiled, lacing her fingers with his. "Come on."

Grabbing another beer, Tim followed her into his bedroom.

***

Julie was on her way to her history class on Monday morning when she was blindsided by Tyra and manhandled into an empty classroom.

"Good morning to you, too," she said.

"Sorry," Tyra replied. "I just wanted to get to you before anyone else did."

"What?"

"I figured you might as well hear it from me instead of some gross jock."

"Hear what?" Julie asked, worried.

"Tim slept with one of the rally girls on Friday night."

Julie stared at her friend. "Which one?"

"Katie Miller, not that it matters," Tyra replied.

"Oh," Julie said, leaning against one of the desks. "Well, whatever. It's not like we're dating, right?"

"Right," Tyra agreed, watching her closely.

Julie stood looking at her friend for a minute, trying to be rational about this. They _weren't_ dating; Tim was just her friend. She and Tyra had gone over all the reasons why dating Tim would be a terrible idea in the car on Friday night. It was never going to happen, so this didn't matter. This definitely _did not_ matter.

"Tyra?"

"Yeah?"

"It hurts," Julie whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

"I know it does," Tyra said, gathering her friend tightly into a hug.

They left the classroom when Julie got her tears under control. She felt like a world-class idiot, and was extremely thankful that she had a long shift at Applebee's that night, because it meant that there would be no tutoring, and no Tim.

***

Tutoring could not be avoided forever, especially with mid-terms on the horizon. Tuesday found Julie and Tim seated in their usual spots at the Taylors' kitchen table, books open and pens out.

Julie was paying very careful attention to her chemistry homework, studiously ignoring the uncomfortably long stares Tim was sending her way.

"What's your problem?" she said finally, raising her eyes from her work to look at him.

"I don't have a problem," he replied. "What's your problem?"

"Nothing," she shrugged, her voice belying her irritation.

"If you say so," Tim replied, looking back down at his own work.

There was a pause where Julie glared at his bowed head. Suddenly, she found herself speaking again.

"Everyone's saying that you slept with Katie Miller on Friday night. Is that true?"

Tim frowned at the table. "Why are you asking me this?"

"Just curious," Julie replied, trying to steady her voice, aiming for nonchalant.

"Didn't think you went in for gossip," Tim commented.

"I don't," she said, shrugging. "I was just wondering what _fun_ stuff you got up to this weekend."

Tim gave her a searching look before answering.

"Yeah, I slept with her."

"Oh," Julie replied. She hadn't really expected a truthful response.

"Yeah," he said, clearing his throat and looking down at his work.

Silence fell on the table once more, and Julie turned her eyes back down to her work. She willed herself not to get upset about this; after all, this was just another reason why she and Tim were better as friends than anything else.

"How come you took off so early?" Tim asked suddenly, disturbing her thoughts. "I thought your curfew was midnight."

"I ran into Tyra and she offered me a ride," Julie replied. "I wasn't having much fun, anyway."

"You weren't?"

"No," Julie said, starting to feel aggravated. "No, Tim, it's not a lot of fun to stand around watching a bunch of jocks and rally girls do body shots off each other while everyone else takes bets on who's the most likely to get pregnant tonight. It's just not really my idea of a good time."

"Oh, okay," he replied, looking irritated. "Next time I'll mind my own business and you can spend Friday night at home, with your parents and a bowl of popcorn."

"That would be great," Julie gritted, flipping a page in her textbook. She wasn't sure whether she was angry because of the Katie thing, or because he had left her alone at the party, or because he wasn't apologising for either.

"Fine," Tim said.

"Wonderful."

Silence fell again, and they didn't talk for the rest of the afternoon.

***

Two days later, Tim found Julie at her locker between classes to explain that he had a long practice that afternoon and would be late coming over.

"Whatever," Julie replied, her face blank.

Tim frowned down at her and lowered his voice.

"What's your problem, Taylor?"   
Julie was about to answer when they were interrupted by Katie Miller walking by with several of the other rally girls.

"Hey Tim," she called, giving him a wave and a knowing smirk.

"Hey Katie," Tim replied, giving her a little nod.

"Unbelievable," Julie muttered, slamming her locker door shut.

Tim turned at the sound to look at her quizzically. A smirk slowly spread across his face.

"You're jealous," he said smugly.

Julie's face coloured with embarrassment and offence.

"It's insulting that you would even suggest that," she bit out. She didn't wait to hear his response; she turned and walked away.

***

After spending her shift watching Matt and Carlotta make googly eyes at each other _and_ listening to a table full of rally girls gossip about Tim and Katie, Julie was ready to either cry or hit someone.

The clincher came when she checked her voicemail at the end of her shift and found a message from her mother saying that she wouldn't be able to pick Julie up, so could she please get Tyra to give her a ride home. The only problem was that Tyra had switched her shifts at the last minute, and hadn't been in that night.

Julie sat on the curb outside the restaurant, the parking lot empty and the restaurant dark. She had called her mother back, then called her father, then called Tyra three times. All she'd gotten were people's voicemails.

Feeling pathetic and abandoned, Julie stared at the cell phone in her hand and sniffled as she began to cry. She hated feeling this way, like she was totally invisible and forgettable, even to her own parents.

The loud rumble of a truck engine disturbed her self-pitying thoughts, and Julie held up a hand against the bright headlights facing her.

Julie stood up as the driver got out of the truck and came around the front. It was Tim, his face concerned.

"What the hell are you doing here by yourself?" he asked.

Julie wanted to be annoyed with him for being a paternalistic jerk, but she was too upset.

"I think everyone forgot about me," she said, her voice cracking as she tried to contain her tears.

Tim took a step forward and folded her into a sudden hug. Taken aback, Julie stood frozen in his arms for a second before bringing her own up and hugging him back. A lump rose in her throat and she began to cry, burying her face in his chest. It was so much harder not to cry when someone was nice to you.

"It's okay," he said, petting her hair awkwardly.

After a minute, Julie stepped back, embarrassed.

"Sorry," she sniffed. "I don't know why I'm being so stupid about it."

"Come on," Tim said. "I'll give you a ride home."

Without another word, Julie climbed into the truck. They didn't speak again until Tim pulled up in front of her house and turned the engine off.

"I'm sorry about Friday night," he said, resting his hands on the steering wheel and staring out the windshield.

Julie turned and looked at him, surprised. "What are you sorry about?"

"For ditching you at the party," he said, glancing at her. "That's what you're mad about, right?"

"Yeah," she replied. "I guess."

Tim turned fully to her and gave her a long look, his eyes not moving from her face. Julie started to feel uncomfortable.

"What?" she asked.

"I didn't really sleep with Katie Miller," he said.

"Oh. Okay," she replied, frowning. "I don't care. It's none of my business who you sleep with."

Tim looked confused. "Then why were you biting my head off this week?"

"Because," Julie said, floundering around for something to say. She obviously couldn't tell him the whole truth, which was that she was jealous and annoyed and frustrated, but she could tell him part of it. "Doesn't it bother you, what everyone assumes about you?"

"I thought you didn't care what anyone thinks," Tim replied.

"Yeah, I'd _like_ to not care what people think," Julie said. "But Dillon is a small town. Whether you like it or not, sooner or later it will matter if people don't think you're a trustworthy person. It's stupid, but there you go. Why do you think my parents are so jumpy about us spending time together outside of tutoring?"

"They are?" Tim asked, looking crestfallen.

"They like you and they're really proud of you," Julie reassured him. "But I guess... Well, they know you by reputation. You know?"

Tim nodded.

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

"It's okay."

"No, it's not okay," Julie said, suddenly angry about the entire situation. "We're friends and that's it, and no one's willing to look beyond their own preconceptions to see that. It's stupid. Nothing else is going on, right?"

Tim stared at her for a moment. "Right," he said.

"So whatever," Julie said. "Forget everyone else. We know what's going on."

Tim nodded again.

"I'm really sorry about the whole party thing," Julie said. "I guess I was just... out of sorts."

"It's okay," Tim replied. "I was kind of a jerk about it. I guess I thought it would be more fun for you than it was."

"It's okay," she shrugged. "Thanks for the ride. I don't know how I would have gotten home if you hadn't shown up."

Julie hopped out of the truck and ran up to the front door, waving over her shoulder to Tim as she did so. He pulled away and drove off into the evening.

Julie unlocked the door and went inside, ready to give her parents the guilt trip of a lifetime.

***

Restless, Tim didn't go straight home after dropping Julie off, instead preferring to drive aimlessly around Dillon for a while, radio playing softly.

It was what he had been doing when he noticed Julie outside Applebee's, sitting glumly in the circle of one of the parking lot floodlights.

Tim knew it was stupid, but the first thing he had thought of, seeing how small and alone Julie looked sitting there, was Tyra. He had heard eventually (as everyone in Dillon always did about these things) what happened to Tyra last year, and that was what he thought about as he frantically pulled a u-turn and roared back around into the parking lot.

The thought of anything happening to Julie because he wasn't around made him sick to his stomach.

Tim wanted to believe that it was just friendly, maybe even brotherly concern, but combined with some of the thoughts and dreams he'd had about Julie lately, Tim knew better.

He'd mostly been able to repress and deny his feelings until that very week, when she was angry with him and he suspected that she might be a little jealous about him and Katie Miller, after all.

Never had Tim been so glad to have passed out on his bedroom floor rather than having sex, even though the rumour mill worked its magic and Julie got mad at him anyway.

Tim frowned. Dillon and its gossip. So what if Jules really did like him and might take a chance on him? Her parents would never let him take her out. She'd said as much herself. They'd have to sneak around, and although the thought of climbing in Julie's bedroom window thrilled him, he'd been down that road before and knew how well it was likely to turn out.

On the bright side, at least Julie wasn't practically engaged to his crippled best friend.

Tim turned his truck towards home. Maybe things were looking up.


	6. Chapter 6

"From what I can tell, she's sort of a weird girl, Tim. The usual things aren't going to work," Billy said, scratching his chin.

Tim frowned. "She's not weird."

The brothers were standing at the counter, having a beer, and Tim had decided to ask Billy for advice on what to do about Julie, a decision he was beginning to question.

"You know what I mean – she's smart and uses big words and doesn't eat pork, and she'll see right through that stuff. You can't just shove a five dollar bouquet at her and expect to hump her right then and there, can you?"

"Billy," Tim warned, scowling at his brother. "Just help me figure out how to make her like me, okay?"

"Words I never thought I'd hear _you_ say," Billy replied, smirking.

"Nevermind," Tim muttered, turning away from the counter to go to his room.

"Jesus, I'm just bugging you," Billy said. "You're so sensitive. Always have been."

Tim didn't reply, settling for merely glaring at his brother.

"All right, all right," Billy said, opening another beer for himself. "Here's what you've gotta do. Flowers won't work, way too obvious. This is going to require a little bit of recon, Tim. You have to pay attention, find out what kind of stuff she likes. What kind of music, what kind of food and stuff. Everything. When you've got something to go on, let me know and we'll work on the next stage."

Tim nodded, considering this. "That's pretty good, actually. What's the next stage?"

"Casually intruding on her personal space," Billy replied, as though it should have been obvious. "Hey, isn't Tyra friends with her? Why don't you ask her what Julie's into?"

"Because I don't really feel like getting castrated this week, Billy."

"Good point," he grimaced. "I guess asking for pointers from Coach or Mrs. Taylor is out too, huh?"

"You're funny," Tim grumbled. There was a pause, during which they both took long swigs of their beers. "Hey – you think they'll have a problem with it? Like, if she wanted to go out with me, do you think they'd say no?"

"I don't know, Tim," Billy replied, shrugging.

"Coach likes me," Tim reasoned, "and they trust me enough to have her tutor me, have me around the house and stuff."

"Yeah, but what would you do, if Julie was your daughter, and one of us showed up at your front door asking to take her out?"

A pause. "I'd probably kill him."

"Exactly."

Tim stared down at the counter, suddenly feeling hopeless and stupid. What kind of a dumbass was he, going after the Coach's daughter? A girl whose father _Matt Saracen_ had had trouble getting past.

"First things first, little brother," Billy said, nudging Tim in the arm. "You gotta make sure she even likes you."

***

"So anyway, he drove me home and we ended up talking about it a little, and he said that he didn't sleep with her, that's just what Katie told everyone."

"Hm," Tyra replied, idly browsing a rack of discount tops.

"What? Aren't you going to tell me that he's a douchebag or he's probably lying or something?"

"Actually, no. When Tim's being a douchebag, he's usually pretty honest about it. He's not much of a liar."

"Oh. So you think he was telling the truth?"

"I guess so. The real question is why he felt the need to justify it, and why he let you believe that he _did_ sleep with her in the first place."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if he didn't sleep with Katie, why would he let you believe he did? And why does he even care what you think about who he's sleeping with?"

"Well, we're friends."

"Okay, he may or may not be just friends with you, but you are most definitely _not_ just friends with him."

"Yeah," Julie agreed, frowning as she turned away from the racks of discount clothes and headed towards the food court. Tyra followed, shortening her long strides to walk in step with her friend.

"Look, I don't want to stress you out or anything," Tyra said. "All I'm saying is just that I'm wondering if maybe Tim's got something going on for you, too."

"Do you really think that's possible?"

"I don't know. I've known Tim a pretty long time, and pretty well, but he's kind of a hard nut to crack, you know? He likes to think he's simple, but he's not."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean... I dunno," she sighed. "I guess what I mean is that he's good at just doing what he thinks people expect of him. Beer, sex, football, beer, sex, football."

Tyra stopped in the middle of the mall thoroughfare and looked at Julie. "I've thought about it a lot, you know? I think maybe we're both like that. People tell you you're one thing for long enough and you start to believe it. It's hard for me to learn how to _not_ be like that. Maybe it's hard for him, too."

Julie looked at her friend for a moment before replying. "Do you mind all this? That I like him?" Julie asked. "I mean, it is kinda weird and awkward. You guys used to date."

Tyra grinned and bumped her arm gently against Julie's, turning once again to head towards the food court. "Nah," she shrugged. "What we had was over a long time ago, and it's a good thing it is. For you, mostly I just don't want you to get hurt. For Tim, I want to go over there and make damn sure he gets that when someone gives a crap about you, believes in you, you shouldn't ever let that person go without a fight, no matter how scared you are that they might actually be right."

***

Another day, another football practice.

Julie was sitting on the bleachers right behind the bench, doing her best to tune out all the yelling and whistle-blowing going on nearby. She had her final exam dates out, and was trying to concentrate on working out how she was going to get some shifts at Applebee's in before finals, while finding time to study and tutor Tim, as well.

A loud whistle signaled a break in practice, and several moments later, the clang of cleats on the bleachers announced the arrival of a football player. Looking up, Julie smiled, expecting to see Tim standing over her. Instead, she was surprised to see Matt a few feet away, watching her.

"Hey," she said, tentatively. The last time they'd really talked was that night outside Fran's, and everything since then had been awkward exchanges and avoidance, at least on her part.

"Hey," he replied softly.

There was a pause during which they both made an effort to look anywhere but at one another's faces. Finally, Julie cleared her throat and took the plunge.

"How are you?"

"Good," he replied. "You?"

"I'm okay. How's your Grandma?"

"She's doing okay. She's Grandma, you know."

"I know," Julie replied, smiling fondly at the thought of Lorraine Saracen. "How's Carlotta?"

"Uh, I wouldn't know, because she went back to Guatemala."

"Oh," Julie said, looking down. "I'm sorry."

"No, you're not," Matt shrugged awkwardly, coming a few steps closing and crouching down on the bench beside her.

"No, I really am," Julie insisted. "That's too bad, she seemed really... Nice."

"Thanks," Matt replied, sending her a sidelong glance.

There was a pause during which they both regarded each other somewhat warily.

"So, does this mean we're talking again?" Julie asked, trying to keep her tone light.

"I guess," Matt replied, scuffing his cleats against the metal.

Julie pursed her lips, trying not to feel irritated. She was still the one who messed everything up; at least he was talking to her. "Well, you're the one who came over here, so... Is there something you wanted?"

"I just wanted to say hi, mostly," he replied. "But I guess... I dunno."

"What?"

"Is there... Is there something going on with you and Tim Riggins?"

Julie took in his nervous posture, and smiled. A little laugh bubbled up out of her before she could help herself. Matt gave her a dubious look.

"Do you know how many people have asked me that?" she asked.

"No, I don't," he replied, turning away and squinting out at the field.

"You, and both my parents, and Tyra, and all my other friends, and some teachers, and a few territorial rally girls. I'm pretty much waiting for little old ladies to stop me in the drug store and ask me if there's something going on between me and Tim Riggins."

"Well," Matt stammered, "is there?"

"We're just friends," Julie repeated, for what felt like the millionth time.

"Okay," Matt replied. After a couple minutes, a whistle blew and Matt stood up, yanking his helmet back down on his head. "See you later," he said.

"See you," she replied, watching him jog back out onto the field to rejoin his team. Her eyes drifted and landed on Tim, who she realised had been standing there watching the two of them talk. Julie blushed and looked back down at her notes.

The irony of her stubborn insistence that there was nothing going on between them in the face of her ever-growing feelings for him was not lost on Julie.

***

One drawback of Julie earning her driver's license was that Tim no longer had to drive her here and there, so now he sometimes found himself driving to the Taylors' alone after practice. He arrived at the Taylors' one afternoon to find he had beaten Julie there. He was greeted at the door and ushered into the house by Mrs. Taylor and a red-faced, sobbing Gracie.

"Jules should be home real soon, Tim," Tami said, walking ahead of him into the house. "I think she just had to go into work to pick up her paycheck and sort out her schedule."

"Okay, Mrs. Taylor."

"Do you mind if I leave you to entertain yourself for a few minutes?" she asked, shifting Gracie from one arm to the other. "I've got a pretty stinky diaper here that needs seeing to."

"Sure," he replied. He watched as Tami disappeared down the hall and into the master bedroom, closing the door behind her. He looked down the other hallway towards Julie's room, then back down towards where Tami had gone.

Before he could second guess himself, Tim walked down the hallway and into Julie's bedroom, closing the door silently behind him. Leaning back against the closed door, he took a deep breath and looked around, taking in the unmade bed and pile of clean laundry which cluttered the otherwise tidy room.

Resisting the urge to have a peek into her underwear drawer, Tim strode over to the stand which held a small library of CDs, and began flipping through them. Frowning, he realised he didn't recognise too many of the titles he found. Apparently their tastes in music differed somewhat. Tim shrugged - that wasn't a big deal. She'd come around to his music; after all, he thought, everyone likes Creedence Clearwater Revival.

He moved over to her bookshelves, which were packed with novels. He smiled, noting that she had meticulously alphabetised her books by author. The shelves were peppered with framed photos, shells, stones, little jars of sand and other little odds and ends; mementos from family trips, he guessed.

Tim glanced around the room, taking in the posters and art Julie had hung on the walls, the piles of paper and homework on her desk, the shoes abandoned on her closet floor. Nothing in the room told Tim anything about Julie except that she liked books and a lot of bands he'd never heard of. None of it really showed how smart and funny and sarcastic and sensitive and thoughtful Julie was.

Frowning, Tim left the room and returned to the living room to wait for Julie to arrive. How was he supposed to figure out what Julie was interested in if her bedroom didn't tell him anything he didn't already know?

***

It was Thursday afternoon, and Julie and Tim were both sitting on the couch reading, which Julie should have known was a bad idea.

"Mmm," Tim muttered, in response to something in his novel. Julie glanced sideways at him and smiled at how adorable his frown of concentration was.

Tim caught her looking, however, and smirked.

"What are you reading?" he asked, poking her in the thigh with his big toe.

"Gross," Julie said, wrinkling her nose and turning back to her book. "Quit moving your feet, they stink. Did you even change your socks after practice?"

"Nope. What's your book about?"

Julie looked up and cast him a withering look. Tim was looking at her, his own book now lying open and face down on his chest.

"Tim, you're supposed to be reading. The rules are that you come over here after practice and you work. Come on."

"This book's crap. What's yours about?"

Julie sighed. She had long since discovered that there was no getting him back on task when he was like this.

"Fine," she said. "I'll tell you about it and we can discuss it a little, because that's sort of like working on English, even though it's not a book you're even _taking_, but then you have to go back to your book. Okay?"

"Okay," he said, tossing his book in the direction of the coffee table. "Shoot."

"This is _Wuthering Heights_," she said, waving it at him. "It was written by Emily Brontë. It's about a boy and a girl, Heathcliff and Catherine, who grow up together and are in love, but complications stop them from being together. They're kindred spirits, but Catherine starts to believe she's a different person and that she's better than Heathcliff, that he's beneath her. So she marries this other, more suitable guy who's nothing like her. Not where it counts. Heathcliff goes away for a while, and then comes back a wealthy man and basically starts to systematically destroy Catherine's life like a total psycho."

"Hm," Tim replied, "Sounds kinda girly."

"Why, because it's a love story?"

"Yeah," he said, reaching out and grabbing the book away from her. "Are there any dirty parts?"

"Tim!" she complained, reaching futilely to get her book back. "Come on, I'm almost finished!"

"Too bad," he said, grinning and holding it up out of her reach.

Julie jumped across the couch and jabbed him hard in the ribs, reaching for the book as his arm came down to protect his vulnerable side. She overshot and landed on top of him, collapsing with laughter as she continued to try to grab the book. She felt a hand against her side, and he suddenly began tickling her ribs mercilessly.

"Oh my god," she squealed, "Tim, don't! I'm super ticklish!"

"Nice," he said, tossing _Wuthering Heights_ aside with devilish glee and attacking her with both hands.

Julie went limp, kicking her legs at the air and smacking his chest. She was laughing so hard her stomach ached, and she couldn't even retaliate when he sat up and pinned her to the couch, continuing his assault.

"Tim!" she shrieked, "Don't, please! I'm dying! Stop!"

"Okay, okay," he said, holding her down and grinning at her. "I'll stop if you say, 'Tim Riggins is the best looking guy in Dillon'."

"Fine, just stop!" she choked, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Tim Riggins is… the biggest dumbass in Dillon!"

"Oh, no," he said, shaking his head as though this turn of events saddened him. "You're dead, Taylor."

His quick hands shoved her t-shirt up to expose her bare midsection, and before she could move, he leaned down and blew loudly on her stomach.

"Oh my god," she laughed, "I cannot believe you just gave me a raspberry!"

He lifted his head and smiled up at her, laughing too, and suddenly it hit Julie that _Tim Riggins_ had her pinned on her couch, his flushed face practically in her crotch.

Julie pushed her shirt back down and began to sit up. Tim pulled away immediately, moving back to his end of the couch.

"We should probably get back to work," Julie mumbled, the playful atmosphere evaporating immediately. "My parents will be home soon."

"Yeah," Tim replied gruffly, retrieving his book from the floor.

They sat reading at opposite ends of the couch and didn't say another word until her parents arrived. Tim didn't linger after they got home, and Julie watched as he slipped out the door at the first opportunity.

***

With less than a minute left in the fourth quarter and the score tied, the Panthers' whole season had come down to a shovel pass to Smash, who was in the midst of running with all his fury towards the end zone.

Julie held her breath and watched as an opposing defender came from across the field, only to be stopped short by a huge block from Tim, who went down hard with the other player beneath him.

The stadium exploded with cheers as the clock ran down and Smash dove into the end zone for a game-winning touchdown.

The crowd poured out onto Herrmann Field, the din of their jubilant voices drowning out all other sounds as they joined the team to celebrate. Julie and her mother found her father in the midst of the melee, and he tore himself away long enough to hug them both, little Gracie squished between her parents in her snuggly.

"Congratulations, daddy," Julie said, her voice muffled by his Panthers jacket.

"Thanks, sweetheart," he replied, pressing a kiss against her head. Julie felt him pull away, and lifted her head to see where her father was looking. Tim was standing a few feet away, holding his helmet and watching them. "Looks like somebody else wants congratulating, too," Coach said. Julie looked up at her father, but his face was inscrutable as he looked at Tim. She pulled away from her parents and walked over to him.

"Headed for the playoffs again," she noted, coming to stand in front of him. "Congratulations."

"Dunno how we pulled it off," Tim shrugged, taking in the spectacle of his celebrating teammates and their families and fans.

"You were really great tonight," Julie said, smiling.

"Thanks," he beamed.

They stood there smiling at each other for several moments before Tami's voice calling Julie interrupted them.

"I'd better go," Julie said, glancing over at her parents. "You must have a big party to get to."

"I guess," Tim replied, looking around at the players remaining on the field, who were shouting congratulations to each other and noisily discussing party plans. "What are you up to tonight?"

Julie shrugged. "Probably just home to bed."

"Oh," Tim said, looking away. "I dunno, do you maybe wanna do something?"

"Uh, I don't know if I'm up for the whole party thing."

"I was thinking we could go somewhere."

"Oh yeah?" Julie smiled. "What did you have in mind?"

"I don't know," he frowned, thinking. "My place?"

Julie stared for a second before glancing back over her shoulder at her parents as though they might have heard Tim's suggestion from twenty yards away.

"Not sure if my parents would really go for that," she said delicately. She looked around at the field, which was slowly starting to empty as players and parents and friends wandered off in groups to continue their celebrations elsewhere. "I've got an idea," Julie said. "Go get changed, and meet me outside the dressing room when you're done. Take your time."

Tim smiled, looking at her in surprise. "What have you got up your sleeve, Taylor?"

"Just go get changed," she said.

Julie managed to convince her parents that it was okay to leave her behind with Tim and that she'd be home before curfew, diplomatically choosing to ignore the looks they gave one another. She waited for him at the back entrance to the field, and he had apparently taken her instructions to heart, for he was the very last player out of the dressing rooms, followed only by an assistant coach who locked up after them both before heading to the parking lot.

Tim strolled over, his jacket unzipped and his hair still damp from the shower.

"I think everyone's a little confused why I'm not gonna be at the party at my own house," he said.

"Oh," Julie stammered. "Did you want to go? We don't have to -"

"No, I'm good right here," he replied, shrugging. He frowned down at her feet. "What's that?"

"Tim Riggins not recognizing a case of beer when he sees one? What is the world coming to?" Julie smirked, stepping around the 12 pack at her feet and hefting it up onto her hip. "I got it out of your truck. Do you mind?"

"Not at all," Tim replied, reaching out and taking it from her. "So, where are we headed?"

"We're headed right here," Julie said, turning and walking out onto the field, heading for the fifty yard line. "I figured since you weren't in the mood for a party and I'm not in the mood for a party, the answer was obvious. Beer picnic."

Tim set the case of beer down on the turf and sat down next to it, pulling two cans out. He cracked them both open and handed one to Julie.

She watched him as he made to take a swig. "Wait," she said. "Don't you have a toast?"

"Oh," he said, pausing. After a moment, he held his beer aloft. "Here's to the Panthers, and to playoffs, and to good company."

Julie smiled. "To good company," she agreed, tipping her beer towards him before taking a long drag.

Two hours later, they had plowed through most of the twelve pack and Tim was loudly pondering the logistics of embarking on a beer-run while Julie attempted to make a pyramid out of their empty cans.

"No," she barked. "No – you have to stay here and help me finish this castle. No beer runs."

"We're almost out, though," Tim complained.

"How much beer do you _actually_ need?"

"Tons," he replied, blinking at her from the ground as she put the finishing touches on her beer can pyramid.

"Right, and how do you propose we go get this beer? Should we walk to the liquor store?"

"Nah, we'll drive."

"Mmm, yeah. That sounds like a great idea."

"Why not?"

"Because you're drunk," Julie said, standing over him with her hands on her hips. "Besides," she said, her hand darting out, "You dropped your keys, and now I have them."

"Hey," Tim grumbled half-heartedly as Julie stepped away. He sat up. "Gimme those."

"No way," she smiled, shoving them into an inner pocket in her green army jacket.

"Seriously, Taylor," he said, slowly standing up. "Give 'em to me."

Julie grinned. "You have to catch me," she said, before turning and sprinting towards the end zone.

Tim stood there staring after her, slack-jawed. It was just like the dream he'd had, weeks ago, where he tried and tried to catch her but couldn't.

Her laughter rang out in the stadium. "What's wrong?" she called. "Big Timmy Riggins can't catch me?"

Shaking his head, Tim took off after her, prompting her to shriek and take off in another direction. His long strides caught up to her quickly, though, and when she spun to duck around him, he caught her around the waist and lifted her up, pretending to grope for his keys.

Laughing, they fell to the ground, Julie squirming to get loose. Tim pinned her down easily, sneaking a hand into her jacket to steal his keys back.

"I win," he panted, leaning over her and grinning.

Julie stared up at him, her expression strangely serious. She sat up, and Tim moved away to give her room. "It's getting late," she mumbled. "We should probably go."

Tim sat back on his haunches, watching as she stood shakily and began picking bits of dirt and grass out of her hair.

"Okay," he nodded, standing up to follow Julie, who was already walking away.


	7. Chapter 7

"Hey, Julie?"

Julie was standing at her locker, searching for her trigonometry notebook, when the sound of an unfamiliar voice very close to her broke through her thoughts. She looked up to see a boy she recognized from her history class last year standing next to her, fingering the strap on his backpack.

"Can I help you?" she asked uncertainly, glancing around once to see if he was talking to someone else. He smiled, looking down and colouring a little.

"Sorry, I don't think we've actually met. I'm Brett. Brett Stevens. We had American History together last semester?"

"Yeah, I know you," Julie replied, embarrassed. "Sorry, that was kinda rude."

"No, it's okay! It's not like we've talked before."

"Right," Julie nodded. An awkward silence fell, and Brett just stared at her for a beat, opening and closing his mouth like he was struggling to say something. Brett was around Matt's height, and had dark brown, slightly curly hair, and warm brown eyes. More importantly, he was not a football player, and he was not already her friend. Julie smiled.

"So, what's up?" she asked.

"Listen," he said, clearing his throat. "I know this is kinda out of nowhere, but do you want to go out with me sometime?"

"Uh," Julie replied, her eyes wide. She'd been so focused lately on getting over Matt and dealing with her unexpected feelings for Tim that she hadn't given any consideration whatsoever to dating other guys. She observed Brett's hopeful face; he was cute, and seemed nice. She had to move on, and she figured there was no time like the present.

"Sure," she said finally, smiling at the look of relief that crossed Brett's face. "That would be really great."

"Okay," he replied. "Are you free this Friday? Since it's a by-week, I was thinking we could just hit Fran's and a movie, or whatever you want, really."

"A movie would be great. Um, I just have to check with my parents and make sure I'm not grounded anymore. Can I give you my number?"

"Uh oh," he smiled, pulling out his cell phone and handing it to her. "Trouble in the Taylor household?"

"Yeah," Julie said, rolling her eyes as she punched in her number. "I'm a real wild child."

"Guess I'd better watch myself then," he replied.

"Guess so."

"So, I'll call you later this week?"

"Sounds good."

"Okay," he said, shouldering his bag and smiling once more at her. "See you, Julie."

"See you," she replied, turning to watch him walk down the hallway. Smiling triumphantly, Julie grabbed her trig notebook and shoved it in her bag.

Maybe there was hope for her love life yet.

***

Julie spent the rest of the day in a great mood. She wondered if Tim had perhaps been right about her the night they went out to the quarry – maybe she was a girl who guys liked, but were just too shy to talk to. After all, it had taken Matt ages to summon up the courage to speak to her, never mind look her in the eye or carry on an actual conversation.

Standing by Tim's truck in the student parking lot, Julie smiled and remembered the number of times Tyra had rolled her eyes and gone, "You're a fox, girl! Own it!" while Julie stammered and shook her head. Maybe both of her friends were onto something she wasn't, until now.

"Hey, Taylor," Tim called as he walked up, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, as usual.

"Hey, Tim," she replied. "I hope you've got an outline for that _Great Gatsby_ paper, because we're going to need to start thinking about prepping for finals."

"You're all business today," Tim observed as he got into the truck, leaning across the seat to pop the lock on Julie's door. She climbed in after him.

"Well, it's never too early to start reviewing," Julie said, rankling a little despite herself at how like her mother she sounded. "You're going to have a lot on your plate, with playoffs and everything."

"That's true," Tim conceded, as he pulled out of the lot and turned the truck towards the Taylors'. "Guess I'll have to prioritize. What's more important – state, or _The Great Gatsby_?"

"Tim," Julie warned, although her tone stayed light. "You can do both, you'll see. I'll help."

"I know," Tim smiled, glancing across the truck at her. He cleared his throat. "So, this Friday's a by-week..."

"Hey!" Julie exclaimed, excited. "That reminds me, guess what happened to me this morning?"

"What?"

"I, Julie Taylor, Miss No One Wants to Date Me Because I'm The Coach's Frigid Daughter, got asked out on a date."

Tim was quiet for a moment, looking ahead of them at the road. "Yeah?"

"Yeah! Hard to believe, I know. But I think maybe you were right about guys being too shy to ask me out or whatever, because he looked kind of terrified. It was cute."

"Who's this guy?" Tim asked.

"His name's Brett Stevens, and we had American History together last semester. He just kind of came up out of nowhere while I was standing at my locker and asked me out."

"Hm," Tim frowned. "Brett Stevens... I don't know him."

"Of course you don't know him," Julie replied, rolling her eyes. "He doesn't play football."

"He doesn't play football?" Tim asked, his dubious tone indicating to Julie that this meant Brett was ever so slightly less than human.

"No," Julie said, laughing. "Tim – I'm not really one of those girls who's _into_ football players or whatever. I'm not a rally girl. Matt was kind of a one-time deal. He was different."

"Oh," Tim replied.

"No offence or anything," Julie said softly, watching his face. She frowned. Was it possible that he was jealous, or was he just being protective like he had been with Riley? "You don't need to worry about me, if that's what you're thinking. I can take care of myself, and anyway, he's nice. We're just going to go for a burger or something."

"Sounds like a good time," Tim said. Julie couldn't tell whether he was being sarcastic or not. "If he gives you any trouble, you just send him my way."

"My own personal bodyguard," Julie smiled. "Lucky me."

Tim didn't reply, and Julie fell silent as they drove through the streets of Dillon towards her house. Julie was confused; she had anticipated teasing or a little brotherly protectiveness from Tim at her news. She hadn't expected the tense silence which now fell between them in the truck. She stole a glance over at Tim to find that he was frowning out at the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

Was it remotely possible that Tim liked her?

The rest of the ride and in fact the rest of the afternoon passed in much the same way, with Tim taciturn and unusually humourless, and Julie making a lot of failed attempts to lighten his mood. He politely declined her mother's invitation to stay for dinner and took his leave as soon as they had finished putting together an outline for his _Great Gatsby_ paper.

"Is he doing okay?" Tami asked, after he left. "He seemed out of sorts."

"Yeah, he was like that all afternoon," Julie replied, staring down the hallway at the closed front door. She felt her mother watching her, and turned and met her concerned eyes.

"Anything that I should know about?" She gave Julie a searching look.

"I don't think so," Julie replied. "I think maybe he's just stressed about finals and the playoffs and all that."

"Maybe," Tami replied.

Uncomfortable under her mother's intense scrutiny, Julie turned away.

***

As Friday and her date with Brett approached, Julie's excitement dimmed considerably and turned to apprehension. She figured this was mostly due to Tim being terse to the point of rudeness all week. She was relieved when she had a long shift at Applebee's and didn't have to deal with the yawning silence across the table between them.

Friday arrived all the same, however, and Julie found that a full day without Tim's mulishness had her looking forward to her date once again. It helped that every time she saw Brett in the hallways that week, he'd smiled at her.

Brett picked her up at home in his dad's Bronco, and, after the third degree from both her parents, drove to Fran's for burgers. It wasn't Julie's favourite place in town, although it was very popular. Its popularity was actually the problem for Julie – it was always too noisy and crowded to have a real conversation, and Julie wasn't interested enough in rubbernecking at Panthers and rally girls to appreciate its other attractions.

Julie could have rolled her eyes at herself. Here she was, 16-years-old and on a date with a cute boy who liked her, and all she could think about was that she'd rather be somewhere _quiet_? She was turning into an old lady.

They sat in a booth and made small talk about the weather, and school, and music, and things they liked to do in their spare time. Brett told Julie about how he and his brother liked to go off-roading, and Julie told him about her dance classes.

They had a perfectly nice time, despite the fact that their conversation was regularly interrupted by people from school stopping by to say hello to one or both of them. Julie was pretty sure Brett was having a good time, too; he smiled a lot and blushed when she smiled back.

"So, have you started studying for finals yet?" Brett asked, after polishing off his burger.

"Ugh, no," Julie replied, swirling her straw around in her milkshake. "Between dance and playoffs and tutoring and studying, finals are going to be a total deathwalk."

"You're a peer tutor?" Brett asked. "That must be pretty time consuming."

"Oh," Julie replied, shaking her head. "I'm not a real peer tutor. I've sort of been drafted into service by my mom for a special assignment."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm tutoring Tim Riggins so he can remain eligible to play, basically."

"Really?" Brett asked, his eyebrows shooting nearly up to his hairline. "Wow, that's..."

"It's what?"

"That's not what I heard."

Julie blinked. "What did you hear?"

"Oh," Brett stammered, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "It's just that the guys, my friends, well..."

"Your friends _what_?"

"Well, they kinda said not to bother asking you out, since you're always hanging around Tim Riggins."

Julie frowned. "I'm not _always_ hanging around Tim Riggins. Anyway, we're just friends. I'm his English tutor."

"Sure, of course," Brett replied, backpedaling. "I didn't mean to imply that it was like, anything other than that, or whatever."

"Right," Julie said, looking down at the worn Formica table. Her good mood deflated at the subject of Tim. It was her own fault – she shouldn't have mentioned tutoring at all if she didn't want to talk about it.

"Listen," Julie began, "I'm feeling kind of tired. Do you mind if we maybe call it a night?"

Brett watched her for a moment before shrugging and standing up. "Sure. Drive you home?"

"You don't have to-"

"No, it's okay," he said, smiling. "Come on."

And just like that, Julie's big date was over.

***

"Well, what are you gonna do about it?" Billy asked, not looking away from the game or Mario Kart he was engrossed in.

"Ain't much _to_ do about it," Tim replied from the armchair, pensively picking at the label on his beer.

"What are you talking about? Of course there is," Billy scoffed. "She's out with him at Fran's right now – go over there and punch him in the face."

"I don't think that would go over so well."

"What are you talking about? Girls love that kind of thing."

"Don't get me wrong," Tim shrugged, "I want to break that kid's face. But Julie'd just get mad."

"So you're just going to sit there like a tool while some other guy steals her right out from under you?"

"Right out from under – _Billy_," Tim scowled, getting up and walking to the fridge for another beer.

"I mean, like, _metaphysically_."

"Metaphorically?"

"Yeah, that. Look how much she's done for you already. You know what metaphorical means."

Tim settled back in his chair, beer in hand. "Whole helluva lotta good it does me," he replied, cracking it open. "I'm here, and she's out with someone else."

***

On Saturday morning, Julie enjoyed the luxury of both her parents and Gracie being out for the morning, and slept in. She finally dragged herself out of bed at noon, prompted by the incessant ringing of her cell phone. She was annoyed until she saw it was Tyra calling.

"Hello?"

"Hey, girl."

"Hey, Tyra."

"Did you sleep in? I called a couple of times."

"Yeah, my parents are out, so I thought I'd take advantage and just be lazy."

"Oh, sorry hon. Did I wake you up?"

"It was time for me to get up, anyway."

"Were you out late? How'd the date go?"

"It was, um..." Julie trailed off, trying to find the right words.

"Oh. Gotcha."

"It wasn't terrible or anything, I mean, he seems nice, it just wasn't..."

"Anything to write home about?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I was going to ask you if you wanted to be my date to this party tonight, but maybe it's more of a Ben and Jerry's and _Thelma and Louise_ kind of night again."

"Ugh, no. Nothing that dire. You're going to a party?"

"I know. It's regression. But I figured, hey, what the hell, you know?"

"Hm," Julie said, tapping her toe against the table leg as she mulled this over. "I think I could go for a party tonight, yeah."

"Pick you up around 9?"

"Sounds good," Julie replied. "Wait, we're not going to show up at the party _that_ early, are we?"

"Of course not. 10:30 at the earliest. Only losers with nothing better to do show up that early. We'll circle the block a few times."

Julie smiled. Perhaps a party with Tyra was just the thing she needed.

***

Another party, another night spent awkwardly scanning the room while her companion enjoyed the company of someone else.

Julie sighed. They hadn't been at the party more than fifteen minutes before Tyra had spotted Landry and lit up like a Christmas tree before muttering, "Back in five," and disappearing into the crowd. Since then, they'd been off to one side, talking as though they weren't at a house party with a hundred other people.

At the sound of a throat being cleared, Julie turned to find Tim standing next to her, beer cup in hand.

"Hey!" she grinned, impulsively throwing her arms around his neck. She felt like she hadn't seen him in ages. He weaved drunkenly and hugged her back, hard.

"Oof," she mumbled into his chest, smiling. "My ribs, Tim."

He let her go with a muttered apology, taking a swig of his beer.

"Don't know your own strength, huh, Mr. Star Fullback?" she teased.

Tim didn't respond, scanning the room anxiously for a moment before his gaze landed once more on her.

"You here with that Brett guy?" he asked.

"What? Oh, no," Julie replied. "He's nice, but it didn't really amount to anything."

Tim blinked softly and swayed on his feet. "You look pretty."

Julie frowned. "How much have you had to drink tonight?"

"Nothing I can't handle," he shrugged, lifting the red plastic cup to his lips as though Julie had reminded him of its presence.

Julie glanced around, once again spotting Tyra over talking to Landry. Their heads were bent close, and they were laughing about something.

"Stay here," she said, giving Tim's chest a gentle shove as though she was sticking him in place. "I'll be right back."

"'Kay," he replied.

Julie wound her way through the party towards Tyra. She had to reach out and grab her friend's arm to get her attention, so involved was she in her conversation with Landry. Tyra looked up, her eyes wide.

"Jules! What's up?"

"Nothing, I just – do you mind flying solo? I need to take Tim home."

Tyra raised her eyebrows. "Tim's a big boy, Julie."

"I know, but he's too drunk to drive. He's either going to do something stupid and someone will call the cops, or he'll get in his truck and kill himself. Or someone else. I'm going to drive him home."

"Okay, fine. Do you want me to follow you in my truck?"

"No, it's okay. I can get home from there."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, Tyra. Thanks."

Ignoring the dubious, concerned look on her friend's face, Julie turned around to find Tim. She was manoeuvring her way back through the crowd of partiers when she heard a crash and a couple of shouts from outside.

By the time she found Tim in the backyard, he was being held up by a couple of the Panthers, and a guy Julie didn't recognize was standing nearby, clutching his bleeding nose and glaring at Tim.

"What happened?" Julie asked Smash, who was one of the players holding Tim while the others diffused the situation.

"Rig's got a short fuse," he replied, shrugging. "Dumbass fell back and took a couple of chairs down with him."

"Hey," Tim slurred, looking at Smash. "This is Jules."

"Yeah, we've met," Smash grumbled. "Let's get you out of here before that guy decides he's up for round two."

Smash and Bradley half-carried, half-dragged Tim out the front of the house and down the street to where his Silverado was parked. They helped Julie shove him into the passenger seat before returning to the party.

Staring up at the clear, cold November sky, Julie sighed and prayed to whatever deities were present to grant her patience.

Climbing in the driver's side, Julie began searching for the keys, hoping Tim had left them somewhere in the cab. A loud snort from Tim prompted her to look up at him. He had passed out, and his head was lolling heavily against the window. Julie glanced down his body, noticing the bulge in the pocket of his worn jeans. Blushing, she reached out to sneak her hand in and remove his keys.

She had her finger hooked in the key ring when Tim's hand closed around her wrist.

"What're you doin'?" he mumbled.

Julie looked up, right into Tim's face. He was watching her closely, his hair falling forward and shadowing his eyes.

"Getting your keys," she replied, tugging them out of his pocket and sitting up slightly. He didn't let go of her wrist.

"Jules," he said, his voice a sigh. He leaned in, and suddenly his lips were pressed against hers.

Julie went completely still. He felt just like how she'd imagined, only better, tasting like whiskey and beer and the sharp metallic tang of the cut on his bottom lip. Shivering, she tilted her head and ran her tongue tentatively along his bottom lip, and suddenly they weren't just accidentally kissing, they were making out.

Tim leaned closer, pushing her until she was sprawled across the cab of the truck, her head against the driver's side window. When he slid a hand down her body and hooked her leg over his hip, Julie understood what all the Tim Riggins fuss was about. She also remembered that Tim was her _friend_, and he was drunk, and she was stupid to let any of this happen.

"_Tim_," she said, placing her hands against his chest and shoving him purposefully away from her. He went easily, flopping back into his seat and glowering at her. Julie stared at him, confused at the strange expression on his face. He didn't seem to know what he was doing in the slightest.

"Let's just get you home," she said, shakily reaching over and buckling his seatbelt. He didn't protest, his head lolling back against the seat.

Buckling her own seatbelt, Julie started the truck and pulled out, holding her breath until she saw the PANTHERS #33 sign in the headlights. Tim had passed out, and spent the ride snoring.

Julie ran up to the house and hammered on the door, relieved when Billy opened the door, shirtless and perturbed.

"I've got Tim," she explained, gesturing at the truck. "He's really, really drunk. I can't get him into the house on my own. Could you...?"

"Yeah," Billy sighed, ducking back into the house to grab a shirt and yank it over his head. "What the hell is he thinking?"

"I really don't know," Julie replied, when they got to the truck. "I've never seen him like this before."

Billy scoffed as he unbuckled his unconscious brother and hauled him out of the truck.

"I have," he said, groaning as he hefted Tim's weight. Julie jumped in and grabbed Tim's loose arm, letting it flop over her shoulder. He felt like he weighed about a ton. "It's been a while, though. He hasn't gotten drunk like this in ages."

Without another word, they got Tim into the house and into his bed, where he collapsed on his face and didn't move.

"Will he be okay like that?" Julie asked.

"He'll live," Billy replied, turning and leaving the room.

"Okay," Julie said, glancing back at Tim's prone form before following Billy. "Um, I'd better go. It's late. Thanks for your help."

"Thank you for bringing him home," Billy replied. "Idiot probably would have tried to drive if you hadn't stopped him."

"I don't know," Julie said. "The Panthers were there, they would have stopped him."

"I wouldn't be so sure. Half the time they do more to egg him on than to look out for him. Not that I'm much better." He looked down.

"Well, he's home safe," Julie said. "'Night, Billy."

"Wait," Billy said, following her to the door. "How are you getting home?"

"I was just going to walk. It's not that far."

"It's far enough," Billy said, shaking his head. "Come on, I'll give you a ride. It's the least I can do."

The ride home was awkward, Billy trying to make conversation to fill the silence. Julie looked out her window at the dark houses passing by, thinking about the kiss she and Tim had shared.

"So," Billy said, clearing his throat. "Tim told me you were out on a date last night. How'd it go?"

Julie frowned. "That's... Why would Tim tell you that I had a date?"

There was a long pause. "Uh, I dunno," Billy replied.

Julie turned and looked across the truck at him. "Do you two talk about me often?"

"Nah," Billy replied, glancing furtively at her. Julie was certain he was the worst liar ever.

"What do you talk about, exactly?"

"Oh, er," he stammered, shifting in the driver's seat and accelerating slightly. "Just, you know. We talk about tutoring and whatever."

"Just tutoring?"

"Yep, just tutoring!"

"Right," Julie nodded, looking forward again. "Makes sense that my date would come up, when you're talking about _tutoring_."

There was another long pause, and Billy turned the Silverado onto Julie's street. He pulled up and parked in front of the Taylors' house.

"Here you go," he said, a little too loud. "Home safe and sound!"

"Billy – what does Tim say about me? Seriously."

Billy sighed. "I can't tell you, it's not my place."

"So he says stuff, then?"

"Yes!" Billy replied, frustrated. "Yes, we talk about you. Happy now?"

"Talk about me _how_?" Julie asked.

"Look, I can't say anything. If you want to know how he feels or what he thinks or whatever, you're gonna have to talk to him. End of story."

"I know, I'm sorry," Julie sighed. "It's just – he doesn't talk much, you know?"

"Oh, I know, trust me."

"Okay," Julie said, opening the passenger seat and sliding out. "Thanks for the ride, Billy."

"No problem," he replied. "Hey, Julie?"

"Yeah?" she said, turning back to look at him.

"I know Tim can be kinda hard to talk to, but you _can_ ask him. How he feels, I mean," he said, giving her a significant look. "He might kinda want you to ask him."

"Oh," she said, raising her eyebrows. Was Billy trying to say that Tim liked her?

"'Night, Julie," he called, putting the truck into gear and pulling away with a wave.

Julie stood on the lawn and watched him drive away, thinking about what he'd said, or at least what she _thought_ he had been trying to say. Did Tim Riggins think of her as more than a friend?

Given the way he'd been behaving all week, she wasn't sure why she was so surprised.


	8. Chapter 8

Tim drove aimlessly around town late Sunday afternoon, lost in thought. He was alternating between feeling sorry for himself because Julie had gone on a date, and feeling aggravated that he still _cared_ that Julie had gone on a date. The last time he cared, it had cost him two of the people he loved most in the world.

Yes, there was certainly something to be said for living life like last summer, the days flowing seamlessly into each other, an endless stream of late nights, parties, and sex. But even Tim could eventually grow tired of those hangover days spent sprawled in bed, head pounding, his mind struggling to recall anything at all. That was the way he'd woken up that very morning, squinting at the harsh morning light and wondering what the hell had happened the night before. He remembered a party, and a lot of beer, and then a whole lot of nothing.

Tim pulled into the parking lot of the Alamo Freeze. The restaurant was relatively deserted. Leaning forward against the steering wheel, Tim saw that both Seven and Smash were working, and Landry was seated up on the counter, chatting animatedly to them. Tim smiled and got out of the truck.

"Well, if it isn't Timmy Riggins," Smash said, the minute Tim stepped in the door. "Where've you been, baby? I feel like I ain't hardly seen you anywhere but practice in weeks."

"Around, you know," Tim replied, sitting up on one of the many empty tables. He nodded at the other two boys. "Seven, Lando."

"Riggins," Landry replied. Matt didn't respond, just gave a slight nod in Tim's direction, his expression guarded.

"Hey, can I ask you guys a question?" Tim asked.

"Sure," said Smash, looking dubious.

"What do you do if, like – hypothetically – you like this girl, and you kinda think she might like you back, but she's dating some other guy anyway?"

Smash, Matt, and Landry all stared at Tim for a beat, their mouths hanging open in identical expressions of bewilderment.

"Sorry," Smash said, giving his head a shake. "Did you just say you like a girl?"

"Yeah," Tim replied, then frowned. "No, it's hypothetical."

"Right, right. So, this hypothetical guy who likes this hypothetical girl, does he have any idea how weird it is that he's coming to his teammates for advice when it's common knowledge that he's slept with half the girls in west Texas?"

"Yeah," Landry piped up. "I didn't realise there were women who could resist your charms, Riggins."

"Fine," Tim scowled. "If you're not gonna help-"

"Who's the girl?" Matt interrupted, very obviously trying to keep his tone casual.

"Just a girl," Tim shrugged, meeting Matt's steady gaze.

"She must be quite the lady to have caught the wandering eye of our very own town Lothario," Landry observed, oblivious to the tension building in the room.

"I'm sure if you just do your thing, she'll come knocking," Smash said, glancing between his quarterback and his fullback. "They usually do."

"Yeah," Tim replied, frowning. What was his thing? Getting drunk and sleeping with a girl at a party, then moving onto a new girl by the next party, he supposed. Pretending to have done that showed him that Julie had a jealous streak, but he had a feeling actually doing it would not win her over. Julie was sensitive, and the last thing Tim wanted to do was fall back into a relationship which consisted of jealous sexual one-upmanship, as had been the case with the only other real girlfriend he'd ever had, Tyra.

"Look Riggins, I'm gonna give you a piece of advice here," Landry said, hopping down off the counter. "Obviously no one has ever bothered to impart any manly wisdom to you up until this moment." Smash scoffed, but Landry ignored him.

"The thing about women is this – women are people. They're just people. There's not a whole lot you can do to make a girl like you, she either does or she doesn't. You just have to try to be the best person you can be, and hope that she likes you for who you are. If she doesn't, some other girl will. That's all there is to it."

"That's actually not half bad," Smash admitted, surprised.

"How do I be the best person I can be?" Tim asked.

Landry smiled. "Show up on time. Care about _her_, not just what you want from her. Be there for her. Be her friend."

"Be forgiving," Matt said softly, looking right at Tim, his expression inscrutable.

Tim met Matt's eyes again and stared at him a moment before looking away.

"I really feel like we've all shared something special here today," Landry announced, looking at his teammates.

Smash rolled his eyes in disdain and disappeared into the back while Matt merely shook his head.

Tim thought over what his teammates had said. Be a good friend. Be a good friend while Julie goes on dates with some little tenth grade jerk-off who probably couldn't even make third-string if he tried?

Sure. No worries.

***

"_If you're wondering if a boy is thinking about you, he's not. He's thinking about sex or he's hungry, those are the only two options._"

Julie stared across the table at Tim's lowered head, her father's words of advice echoing in her head. Tim was engrossed in studying for finals, and she was engrossed in studying him.

Neither of them had mentioned Saturday night, and Julie was getting more and more confused with every passing minute.

Tim sighed, frowning as he turned another page in his chemistry textbook.

Unable to stand it another second, Julie cleared her throat. "So, you were pretty drunk the other night."

"I know," Tim replied, looking up at her and grimacing. "I think I'm still feelin' it a little, actually."

"I bet; you were practically incoherent," Julie said. "Do you even remember how you got home?"

"Billy came and got me," he replied.

Julie scoffed. "Actually, no. I drove you home."

"You did?"

"Yeah. You don't remember?"

"No," he replied, looking sheepish. "Sorry. What happened?"

"I went to the party with Tyra, and when I saw how drunk you were, I figured maybe you should just go home. I was right, because that's when you started picking fights with people. Smash and Bradley helped me get you out to the truck."

"The truck," he repeated, frowning down at the table. "Then what?"

Julie paused, watching him closely. He obviously didn't remember what had happened between them. Clearing her throat as an angry, hurt flush spread across her cheeks, she continued.

"Uh, then I pretty much took your keys and drove you to your place. Billy gave me a ride home."

"Sorry, Jules."

"It's okay," she said, although the whole thing felt anything but okay. "What got into you?"

"Dunno," he shrugged. "Don't know when to say when sometimes, I guess."

"I guess," Julie echoed, scrutinizing him.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing, just..." Julie hemmed, trying to think of a way to ask him about what happened that wasn't appallingly awkward and embarrassing. "Um, it's just... You shouldn't do that to yourself, that's all. It's bad for you," she mumbled, looking back down at her books.

"Thanks, Dr. Taylor," Tim smirked.

"Oh, whatever," Julie muttered. She picked up her pen once more and began concentrating on her work, feeling stupid. He had been so drunk he didn't even remember what happened. He probably would have made out with a telephone pole.

Billy was obviously full of crap, or had meant something else by what he'd said to her. She swallowed, surprised at how hurt she felt. It seemed like no matter what she did, she couldn't stop wondering if Tim felt the same way she did, and he couldn't stop disappointing her.

***

Tim hurried home after tutoring, hoping that Billy would be there. He needed to find out what else happened on Saturday night, because he had apparently missed a few important things on account of being drunk. Namely, that he and Julie had kissed.

As soon as Julie mentioned driving him home, foggy imprints of that night drifted up to the surface of his mind. He remembered punching someone, and sitting in his truck, and that Julie's eyes had been huge and dark in the dim light. He remembered the feeling of her body up against his.

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Tim turned onto his street and pulled up in front of his house, parking the truck haphazardly in the driveway.

Inside, Billy was stretched out on the couch, watching _America's Next Top Model_.

"Billy, turn that crap off, I need to talk to you," Tim snapped, standing in the middle of the living room with his hands on his hips.

"It's not crap," Billy frowned. "What's with you?"

"Did Julie bring me home on Saturday night?"

"Yeah. Jesus, how drunk _were_ you?"

"Never mind. What the hell happened?"

"Julie brought you home and we dumped you in bed, and then I gave her a ride home."

"How did she seem? Weird or anything?"

"I don't know, Tim, she seemed kinda tired, I guess. She was worried about you."

"Worried? What do you mean?"

"I mean, she seemed worried about how drunk you were."

"Huh. She say anything on the way home?"

"Uh, no," Billy said, raising his eyebrows as he turned the volume back up on the TV.

"_Billy_."

"Oh, for crying out – she likes you, all right?"

"What?"

"She likes you, Tim. It's obvious. I said something about her date and she got all weird about why you and me talk about her and, look, whatever, it's just obvious that she's got a thing for you."

"Then why's she dating this other guy, then?"

"What? She's not. She went on one date with him and it sounded to me like there wasn't much going on there."

Tim glared down at his brother. "What do I do?"

"I think you should tell her you like her, 'cause one, I'm getting kinda sick of all the high school drama, and two, then you might actually get laid before Friday. Get nice and limber. First game of the playoffs, little brother. Can't lose your focus now, Julie or no Julie."

Billy took a swig of his beer, returning his attention to the TV. Tim stayed where he was, staring off into the middle distance. He was no less confused than he'd been after leaving the Taylors'. If Billy was right and Julie felt the way Tim did, why didn't she say anything about their kiss? Most other girls he knew would have been only too happy to remind him that they'd kissed.

Tim sighed, rubbing his face in frustration. What was he thinking? He'd figured out ages ago that Julie was not most other girls he knew.

***

"Tim!"

A familiar voice cut through the noise in the hallway, calling his name, but Tim did his best to ignore it.

"Hey, Tim!" the voice repeated, much closer. Tim stopped and turned, coming face to face with Tyra.

"I wanna talk to you," she bit out, grabbing his arm and pushing him ahead of her into an empty classroom. He frowned and pulled his arm out of her grip, but didn't otherwise protest.

"What?" he asked, once they were out of the noisy stream of students in the hallway.

Tyra scowled at him, her arms crossed over her chest like gripping her upper arms with her hands was the only thing keeping her from slapping him silly.

"'What'?" she repeated, incredulous. "That's all you have to say for yourself?"

"Yeah, _what_?" he replied, his hackles rising the way they always did when Tyra gave him the gears.

"Oh my god," Tyra breathed, casting her eyes heavenward as if to ask, _Can you even believe this guy?_ "You are just so damn dense, Tim."

"If that's all you had to tell me, I'm gonna go, because I've gotta get to Chemis-"

"Julie told me what happened."

"Julie told you _what_ happened?" he asked, cautious.

"That you kissed her at the party on Saturday, dumbass," she spat, glaring at him. "I knew I shouldn't have let her take you home."

"Oh," Tim said, frowning down at the floor.

"Ah, so you _do_ remember. Amazing. Any particular reason you're pretending it didn't happen? Are those blackouts starting to stick? Little embarrassed that you slobbered cheap beer all over her? Or are you just feeling extra specially cruel and selfish today?"

Tim glared at Tyra, but didn't reply.

"Look, I don't know how you feel about her, and to be honest, I don't really care. But Julie's not..." Tyra looked down, suddenly seeming awkward and self-conscious. She paused, choosing her words carefully. "She's a nice girl, Tim. She's a sweet person, and she's my friend. So if you're just looking for kicks, go find 'em somewhere else."

"I'm not just looking for kicks," Tim said softly, with an earnest shrug.

Tyra fixed him with that gimlet eye that had always seen him a little too clearly for his comfort. She looked at him like that, hard, for several beats, before nodding and looking away. She sighed.

"Okay," she said finally, shrugging. "You're free to go."

Rolling his eyes, Tim shouldered his backpack and headed for the door.

"But Tim?"

He turned back to see Tyra watching him go, her hands on her hips.

"You hurt her, and I'll cut your balls off myself. That's a promise," she said, before flashing him a dazzling heartbreaker of a smile and stalking past him, out of the classroom.

Tim watched her go, a smile spreading across his face. Dense he may be, but even Tim was smart enough to know that Tyra was completely sincere.

***

Friday arrived, bringing with it the first game of the playoffs. The Panthers were facing off against the Warfield Warriors on their home turf, Herrmann Field.

Julie leaned against the passenger side door of her father's SUV, which was parked outside the field house. Gracie was bundled up for the cool evening, cuddled up against Julie's chest in her Snugli. Their mother had passed her off to Julie as soon as they arrived, for as soon as her father disappeared into the field house, Tami was deluged by parents and fans wanting to chat excitedly before the game began.

"In a few years, you're going to have to cope with this solo, kiddo," Julie murmured softly to her baby sister. Gracie scrunched her face in an attempt to see Julie past the knitted winter hat which kept falling down over her eyes. Julie smiled and pushed it up for the millionth time so that Gracie could see.

"I don't know if I'll even be around," Julie said, frowning. She tried to imagine where she'd be in ten, fifteen years, when Gracie would be around her age. The thought of being away from her parents and Gracie made her briefly feel scared and sick, but the thought of still living in Dillon and having her whole life revolve around the Panthers didn't thrill her, either.

Julie's thoughts were interrupted by an eruption of cheers on the other side of the parking lot as the last few players straggled in. Tim strode across the lot at a leisurely pace, smiling his funny half-smile at the fans and rally girls cheering at his arrival. Julie rolled her eyes dramatically before looking down at her baby sister once more.

It had been yet another awkward week of tutoring, although Julie knew she couldn't really fault Tim for that. He had blacked out, after all, so he didn't even know why it was that Julie was pissed off at him, and Julie certainly wasn't about to tell him.

"Steer clear of football players, Gracie," she sighed, shifting her sister's weight against her. "Just steer clear of them."

"You two all right over here?" Tami asked as she walked over, finally having broken free of the crowd of Panthers fans as they dispersed to find their seats in the stands. She held her arms out to Julie, who passed Grace over easily.

"Oh, we're just fine," Julie sniped. "I was giving Gracie some tips on how to deal with being the coach's daughter in a town where no one has anything better to do than obsess over high school football."

"Great," Tami said cheerfully, as they turned to walk into the stadium and find their seats as well. "Gracie Bell sure is lucky to have a seasoned veteran for an older sister." She rubbed Julie's back affectionately. "Don't worry – season's almost over."

"Can't end soon enough for me," Julie grumbled, following her mother through the gauntlet of rabid Panthers fans to their usual seats at the 50 yard line. Julie nodded shyly at Billy, who was a few seats down and across, and who sent her a tense little wave when he saw her, most of his attention focused on the game to come.

The marching band and the cheerleaders began to get the crowd revved up, and soon enough the announcer introduced the Dillon Panthers to thunderous cheers from the stands. The coin was tossed, and the game was underway.

Julie didn't hate football, just the way it controlled her life. The game itself she actually enjoyed. That said, she found it very hard to concentrate on what was happening in this particular game, for her eyes kept drifting of their own accord to find number 33 on the field, wherever he might be. She spent the whole game watching him throw block after block and field the occasional pass, too. He played with such focus and determination, such energy and guts, that he seemed almost incomparable to the laidback, lazy Tim Riggins who liked to lean on her kitchen table and avoid working on his English homework at all costs.

The Tim Riggins who, only a week earlier, had laid the kind of kiss on her that kept a girl up nights. The kind of kiss which was apparently totally forgettable to some other people.

Julie stomped her feet, huffing out a frustrated sigh as the Warriors intercepted the ball. That was what troubled Julie most about the whole thing. She knew if you were that drunk and you blacked out, there wasn't much you could do about whatever holes burned themselves through your memory. That didn't make it any less upsetting to be forgotten, though.

A blow of the whistle shook Julie out of her maudlin thoughts, drawing her attention back to the situation on the field. Most of the game had been spent with the two teams within shooting range of one another, the score tied or close to it the entire time. It was now down to the last few minutes of the fourth quarter, however, and the Warriors had just scored a touchdown. The crowd held its collective breath as the Warfield coaches debated whether or not to try for a two-point conversion. They decided to try for it, and Tami grabbed Julie's arm, her fingers digging in.

"Cross your fingers, honey," Tami murmured, a tense frown on her face.

The line of scrimmage moved close to the Panthers' goal line, and the play began. Julie watched, breathless, as the Panthers attempted to stop the ball from crossing the line. The Warriors' running back charged through them, heaving himself onto the turf on the far side of the goal line.

The Warfield side exploded in cheers. Thirty seconds remained on the clock, and the Panthers' only hope was to try for a touchdown in the dying moments of the game. The Panthers called a time-out and huddled around their coach. Seconds passed, and with a rallying cheer, the players jogged back onto the field.

Tami was holding Julie's arm so tightly, she thought she might have bruises the next day. Julie's stomach churned with nervousness – they had to come back from this, they just _had to_.

An encouraging cheer rose up from the Dillon side, the crowd trying to spur their team on. Play began again, with Matt receiving the snap and hurling the ball to Smash before getting slammed into the turf by a Warrior. Smash caught the ball and ran for the Warrior goal line as the clock ticked rapidly towards zero. Tim threw blocks every way he could, trying to clear the way for Smash to get through. A hulking defenseman made a run at Smash, but Tim threw every ounce of his weight into him, taking both himself and the Warrior down.

"No!" Julie shouted, horrified, as a second Warrior defenseman came, seemingly from nowhere, and rammed into Smash, batting the ball away from him in the process.

The clock hit zero, and in that instant, the Warriors won the game, and the Panthers' season was over.

The shocked dejection of the Dillon side was palpable as they watched the Warriors' fans flood the field while their own Panthers looked on in defeat. Slowly, the team and the fans began to leave the stadium, barely able to believe that what they had just witnessed was really true – the Panthers had lost.

Julie watched Tim as he stood, hands on his hips, watching the other team celebrate their victory. His wet hair hung down in his face as he turned and made his way to the field house. Julie glanced over at her father, who was still staring out into the field himself, both men seeming utterly confused at how this could have happened. Her heart ached for both of them, knowing how much it all meant to them. She glanced up at her mother, whose eyes shone with unshed tears as she tensely watched her husband.

"Come on," Tami said finally, taking Julie's hand. "Let's go."

They waited for Eric by the SUV, the only words spoken the farewells and promises of "we'll get 'em next year" to the Panthers' fans as they walked to their cars and disappeared into the night.

Eric finally emerged from the field house, surrounded by most of his players and the other coaches. He bypassed the thinning crowd and walked directly over to his family, where Tami and Julie took turns giving him wordless, consoling hugs.

"Let's go home," he said gruffly, letting go of his wife to head over to the driver's side.

Julie glanced around at the players, not seeing Tim anywhere. Matt and Smash had come out with her father, and the last few seemed to be exiting the field house.

"Mom, Dad," she said, turning back to them. "Is it okay if I wait for Tim?"

Her parents looked at her, hesitating, before glancing at one another for some silent parental consultation.

"Sure, honey," Tami replied, clearing her throat. "How are you gonna get home, though?"

"I can get a ride with Tim," Julie said.

"Okay, well, curfew's still 11:30, and if you do need a ride, make sure you call."

"Thanks, mom," Julie smiled, giving her mother a quick hug. "You too, dad."

"Yeah, yeah," Eric replied tiredly, although his eyes betrayed his affection. "You make sure my fullback doesn't try to jump off any bridges, all right?"

"_Honey_," Tami warned, frowning.

"What?" Eric complained, going around the other side of the truck and climbing in.

Julie smiled and waved as they pulled away before finding a spot along the fence to stand and wait for Tim.

Finally he emerged from the field house, and Julie figured he must be dead last. His sheepskin jacket was unzipped, and he was frowning down at the ground as he walked. He happened to look up, and his eyes landed on her. Not smiling or speaking, he walked over slowly, visibly dragging his feet. Julie did her best to repress the fond smile that quirked at his hunched shoulders.

"Hey," she said softly, when he stopped in front of her. "I'm really sorry."

He shrugged, looking down at the ground and shifting his duffel bag uncomfortably on his shoulders. Julie observed him for a moment before speaking again.

"Listen, um, I don't know if you wanna go hang out with the team or Billy or just be alone, but if you want, we could –"

Tim nodded his head before she could finish, and began walking towards his truck. Wordlessly, Julie fell into step beside him. She let the silence hang heavily between them across the parking lot and into the truck, and out past the town limits as Tim drove them to the cliffs.

When they arrived, however, Tim didn't retrieve his clubs or his empties from the bed, instead flipping the tailgate down and hopping up to sit, glumly dangling his feet. Julie hopped up and sat next to him, zipping her coat up tightly against the cool, early winter night around them.

Neither of them spoke for a long time, Tim lost in his thoughts and Julie content merely to take in the stars as they began to emerge in the sky overhead.

"Always feel like it's my fault," Tim finally said, his voice a low, barely audible mumble. "Like I shoulda done something, or not done something. If I'd known the plays better or watched closer or did my job right, we'd be headed to the semis."

Julie stayed quiet for a minute, taking this in and waiting for him to finish. "Can I say something?"

Glancing at her, he nodded.

"I've watched a lot of football in my life, and I can say with complete certainty that there's nothing you could have done tonight that would have changed what happened. You can't be everywhere at once, Tim."

"I know," he said, exhaling loudly. "It's just... I always feel like, if something bad happens, it's 'cause I screwed something up."

Julie paused again, thinking about his words. She took a deep breath, wanting to choose her own carefully.

"Tim?"

"Yeah?"

"You know that things other people do, and things that happen randomly... You know that's not your fault, right? That it's not because of you?"

Tim didn't reply, just continued to stare into the distance.

"You know what I mean?" Julie continued, uncertain of herself. "I mean, you know, you haven't done anything to deserve this. It was out of your hands. This didn't happen because of you."

Tim frowned out at the quarry, looking uncomfortable.

"Sorry," she said softly. "I'm sorry if that's over the line."

"How come you're always so nice to me?" he asked.

Julie smiled, bemused. "Uh, I didn't think I was all that nice. I give you a hard time a lot, actually."

"Not really," Tim replied. "I've never been with someone as nice as you before."

"Thanks," Julie said, blushing and looking down. When she glanced back up, Tim was watching her closely, his expression guarded and intense. Julie shivered.

"Jules?" he asked, his breath brushing her lips, his face was so close.

"Yeah," she replied, as though he had asked a real question. Tim leaned in, and Julie met his lips halfway, before he could get all the way to her.

They sat there frozen for several beats before Julie tentatively placed her hands on his shoulders. With a sudden, harsh sigh, Tim ran his hands up her back and buried them in her hair, cradling her head and kissing her urgently.

Julie scooted closer to him, eventually throwing her leg over to straddle his lap, pressing herself against him and running her hands through his hair.

Tim groaned and shifted his weight back, breaking contact with her lips only to kiss his way down her neck, nudging her jacket aside.

"Whoa," Julie exhaled, laughing when she felt Tim smile against her neck. He pulled back to look at her.

"Something funny?" he asked.

"No, I just, um," she stammered, suddenly feeling incredibly shy. "I just... I like you."

"I like you, too," he said, his face serious.

"No, I know, I mean I think I _like_ you, you know?"

"I know," he replied. "Me too."

"Really?"

"Well, yeah."

"Why?"

"Why? I said you were a catch, didn't I?" he said, smiling. "What did you think I meant?"

"Oh, well, I thought you just meant, like, in general, you know?"

"I did, but I also meant, you know, for me..." he trailed off, frowning at her. "I'm not real good at talking about this kinda stuff."

"It's okay," Julie said. "Just try."

Tim stared up at her, and Julie felt pulled in by his expressive eyes.

"I, uh," Tim began gruffly, clearing his throat. "I'm sorry about last weekend. I know I was outta line when I kissed you and everything, and I figured that's why you were mad at me this week, but I didn't want... I didn't know what to say to you."

"You remember?" Julie gasped, sitting back a little to look at him.

"Yeah," he replied, not meeting her eyes. "It came back later, and then I just didn't know how to, you know, talk about it. I'm a jackass."

"Ugh," Julie groaned, smacking his chest. "I was so mad at you! You finally kiss me, and then the next time I see you, you don't even remember it? I could have strangled you. You _are_ a jackass."

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely, his eyes crinkling as he smiled up at her.

"Yeah, you seem so contrite," Julie replied, rolling her eyes. "I thought... I don't know. I thought I was forgettable, or something. It hurt my feelings."

The mirth disappeared from Tim's face and he hugged her closer. "You're not forgettable, Jules. You're anything but forgettable."

Julie observed his lowered head for a moment before sighing, and tugging his hair gently. He looked up. "I guess I forgive you. This time."

Julie leaned forward, pushing until Tim got the message and reclined back onto the old carpet and the pile of tarps covering the bed of his truck. Pressing a quick kiss to his cheekbone, Julie rolled to the side and curled up against him, leaving a leg slung over his.

"Is this okay with you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

There was a pause, and then Tim's arm came up around her shoulders, holding her close. The other came up and rested on her thigh. Julie shivered.

"Yeah," Tim replied, pressing a kiss against her head. "It's okay with me."


	9. Chapter 9

Two days. It had been two whole days since Julie had seen Tim, or talked to him, or, more importantly, kissed him.

She paced anxiously beside his truck, unable to stand still. How long was practice going to go on, anyway? Playoffs were over and although practices continued until May, the team was supposed to have time now to focus on finals, which were coming up in the next week. If her father didn't let Tim out of there soon, Julie thought she might have to start playing dirty and rat him out to her mother for letting practice go over.

"Hey," came Tim's voice, suddenly beside her. Julie jumped and nearly smacked into him. He was standing right next to her, his duffel bag over his shoulder and his aviators shading his eyes from the late afternoon sun.

"Hey!" Julie replied, her voice a little too loud and squeaky. She winced. "What's up?"

Tim shrugged. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah, I've been ready for like half an hour," Julie groused, regaining her footing and climbing into Tim's Silverado as he disappeared around the other side. "What's my dad doing in there, reading you _War &amp; Peace_?"

"No," Tim replied honestly, missing her sarcasm. He started the truck and pulled out of the lot, taking the turn towards Julie's house.

They rode in silence, Julie swallowing every word she wanted to say before she had the chance to say it. This was so weird. Were they going out? Were they just friends? Friends with benefits? Could this _be_ more awkward?

Thankfully, the ride was relatively short, and soon enough, Tim pulled into the Taylors' empty driveway. Julie hopped out of the truck as soon as Tim stopped, and began fumbling with her keys at the door.

"So," Tim said, following her into the house and closing the door behind them. "Your parents coming home?"

"Not for a while," Julie replied, shrugging off her jacket and dumping her things in the front hallway. "My dad's got coachy things to do, and my mom has a staff meeting."

Julie barely got the words out before she found herself being pushed up against the wall, Tim's lips coming down firmly on hers, her head knocking against a framed photo of her grandparents.

Tim kissed her slowly and lazily, his hands sliding down her body to rest on her hips. He lifted her up against him easily, his weight pinning her to the wall as he struggled out of his jacket, letting it drop to the floor.

Julie gasped, grabbing onto his shoulders tightly for balance as he insinuated himself between her legs, pushing against her and kissing her deeply. Julie's breath caught when he pressed his crotch against hers; she'd never actually experienced anything so openly _sexual_ before. She felt dizzy as he pulled them away from the wall and stumbled down the hallway, half-carrying her so they wouldn't have to break their kiss.

Tim managed to get her bedroom door open, dumping Julie somewhat unceremoniously on her bed. He joined her, his body stretching out, half across hers.

Between kisses, Julie smiled. "I have this feeling of déjà vu," she said.

Tim groaned, laughing against her neck. "Hope that doesn't mean your dad's about to come barging in," he replied, running a hand up her side, his thumb barely grazing her breast through her t-shirt. She shivered, hard.

Tim leaned back a little to look at her. "Cold?"

"Um, no," Julie replied, feeling her face heat up.

Tim smiled, a slow-burning, predatory smile she'd seen him shoot at other girls, but never at her. "Hot?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said, running her hands up to softly grip his hair. The late afternoon sun slanted in through her blinds, briefly shining in his hazel-green eyes before he lowered his head to bury his face in her neck, sucking on the exposed skin he found there.

Julie gasped out loud, her breath catching in her throat. Her stomach flipped with that strange, exhilarating feeling she always felt right before getting on a rollercoaster, when she thought for a brief second that no, actually, she'd rather skip the ride, thank you very much, and keep her feet safely on solid ground.

"You okay?" Tim asked, leaning back again at her gasp.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I'm –" Julie stammered, feeling immature and stupid and lame, and god, he was accustomed to rally girls and _Tyra_, for crying out loud, what was she going to do? "I don't want to have sex."

Tim sat up a little, his hands still resting on either side of her. Julie moved back onto her elbows so she could see him better. Tim was watching her closely, his expression inscrutable.

"It's just, I mean, I know you're used to like, rally girls and stuff like that, and I like you, you _know_ I really like you, but I just –" she rambled, feeling her face flaming a deeper and deeper shade of pink.

Tim smiled at her as she sputtered to a stop. "I don't know what you had planned for this afternoon," he said, "but _I_ was thinking we could make out for a while and then go sit at the table and look real innocent when your parents get home."

Julie stared at him, surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah," he said seriously, frowning. He sounded a little insulted. "I have _some_ self-control."

Julie ran her fingers across the back of his hand where it rested next to her on the bed. She smiled at him.

"Okay," she said.

"How long do you think we have?" Tim asked.

Julie glanced at the clock next to her bed. "Um – maybe half an hour?"

Leaning down, Tim smiled, his expression wolfish once again. "Perfect."

***

"Hey, Tim. Have a seat," Tami said, brushing her hair over her shoulder and retrieving a sheet of paper from her desk.

Tim sat down on the couch, eyeing Tami warily. She looked very serious, her mouth pursed and her eyes grim. Glancing down, Tim spotted his name printed at the top of the sheet she held. A year ago he wouldn't have believed it, but he was nervous about his grades. What if it hadn't worked? What if Julie's help was all for nothing and he failed and got kicked off the team again?

"I guess you know why you're here," she said, lacing her fingers in her lap.

"Yes, ma'am," he mumbled, staring at the carpet between his boots.

"Okay, well, we've got the results from your finals here," she said, looking down at the paper.

Tim swallowed, his throat dry. "And?"

Tami glanced up, her face grave. "And I'm pleased to tell you that not only did you pass your finals, but you brought your GPA up a whole half point. Congratulations."

Tim stared at Tami, his mouth agape. "For real?"

"Yeah, for real."

"That was kinda _mean_, Mrs. Taylor," Tim said, astonished.

Tami smiled, unapologetic. "Sorry, couldn't help myself."

"I might go complain to Principal Brecker, actually," he said softly, teasing.

"Yeah, I'm sure you will," Tami replied, rolling her eyes. "So, how does it feel?"

"How does what feel?"

"To work hard and have it pay off, Tim," she exclaimed. "'Cause you worked for this, you did, I saw it with my own eyes. No rally girls or anything, this is all you. You should feel proud of yourself, Tim."

"I guess it feels good to know I can still play," he replied, looking down at his feet.

"Not only can you play, but if you keep this up, you could really open some doors for yourself in the future, Tim. Which is what we'll have to start working on next semester."

"Next semester?" Tim asked, alarmed.

"Yes sir," Tami replied, smiling. "I'm not done with you yet. I think we can get that GPA higher yet. In fact, I know we can."

"But there's no football next semester."

"I know that."

Tim smiled ruefully. "Guess I don't have much choice."

"No, you don't."

He looked up. "Thanks, Mrs. Taylor. For helping me."

"You're welcome, Tim. But you shouldn't thank me, you should thank Jules. She really logged some serious hours for you."

"I know she did," he replied, looking back down at the floor. He had a strange, tight feeling in his chest, thinking of all the times Julie had encouraged him or scolded him or written study notes for him or explained things better than his teacher did. It was partly his feelings for Julie, yes, but also something else entirely. Thankfulness, he guessed.

"Hey, Mrs. Taylor?"

"Yeah, Tim?"

"Can I ask you a question? Like, sort of a personal, non-school question?"

"Oh, well, of course," Tami replied, her eyebrows raised.

"So, there's this girl," he said cautiously, "and I like her. But she's not really my usual type, I guess, and I feel kinda different about her than I have about other girls, so... How do I convince her that I'm serious about her and I'm not just... you know?"

Tami fixed him with a contemplative look so long that Tim blushed and looked away. Tami cleared her throat, and when Tim looked back up, she had turned away from him a bit and was looking out the window. After a pause, she spoke.

"You shouldn't try to _convince_ girls of anything, Tim. It's not good for you, or for them, or for anything, really, to go around trying to talk girls into things. It's deceitful. It's just another kind of lying."

Tim nodded.

"Now, if this girl's as special as she sounds," she said, obviously choosing her words carefully, "then she's probably not going to be convinced by you just telling her how you feel and saying that you're serious. It's important to say it, but you've gotta _show_ her. You've gotta show her that you _are_ the guy you say you are. You're growing up, you're turning into a man. Maybe it's time that you asked yourself what kind of man you want to be."

Tami looked straight at him. "And let me tell you something – you've gotta figure out what kind of man you want to be for _yourself_, not just for a girl."

Tim nodded again, meeting her eyes. Tami sighed, brushing her hair over her shoulder.

"Tim," she said, looking down at her hands. "Julie's my girl. She's my precious girl. If you have feelings for her or she has feelings for you or whatever's going on, there's nothing I can do to stop that. But you treat her right. I want to believe that you know what I mean by that. I _need_ to know that you know what I mean by that."

"Yes, ma'am," he whispered. "I know."

She regarded him for another moment, then nodded. "Okay, you'd better get to practice."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, standing up and shouldering his bag. He turned to go.

"Hey, Tim?"

"Yeah, Mrs. Taylor?"

"Jules really likes dahlias."

Tim stared. "Thanks, Mrs. Taylor."

"You're welcome, Tim," she said, turning back to her desk.

Tim left, and closed the door quietly behind him.

***

There was a knock on Julie's door, one she recognized immediately as her mother's.

"Come in," she said, not looking up from _Catch-22_.

"Hey, sweetie," Tami said, slipping into the room and closing the door behind her. She came and sat down on the edge of Julie's bed.

"Got a few minutes to talk?"

"Sure," Julie said, marking her place in the book and setting it down.

"Okay," Tami said, clasping her hands and looking up at the posters on the wall. "I got Tim's finals results back today."

Julie sat up quickly, looking closely at her mother. "And? How'd he do? Did he pass?"

"He did really well, honey. He passed, and he actually managed to bring his total GPA up half a point."

"Oh my god! That's so awesome! Does he know? Did you tell him?"

"Yeah, I told him."

"And? What'd he say?"

"He seemed happy enough, but you know what Tim's like. Anyway, football season's over, so I doubt he cares all that much. He did ask me sort of a funny question, though."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I mean, I probably shouldn't say anything, but it's just... Look, I know I've asked you this before, but – is there something going on between you and Tim?"

Julie took in the anxious look on her mother's face, and she sighed. Why bother even trying to hide it? This was Dillon; everyone would find out eventually anyway.

"Yeah, there is."

Tami nodded quickly, swallowing whatever response sprang immediately to mind.

"We're... I don't know what we are," Julie stammered, wanting to reassure her mother, "but it's not _like that_, I promise. It's really not."

"Okay, sweetie, it's just that, you know, as a mother, that's... I mean, that's Tim Riggins, honey. That's _Tim Riggins_."

"I know who he is," Julie mumbled, frowning down at the comforter on her bed.

"I know," Tami replied softly. "I know you do."

There was a pause, and Julie looked up to see her mother watching her closely, her eyes shining.

Tami said, reached out and cupped Julie's chin. "I just don't want to see you get hurt."

"I know," Julie replied.

"Come here," Tami said, pulling her close for a hug. Julie closed her eyes, hugging her back. "You know you're gonna have to tell your father, right?"

"Yeah," Julie replied, grimacing. She pulled back. "I kinda wanted to wait until Tim and I could talk and figure things out. It's been so crazy, with playoffs and finals and everything."

"Okay," Tami said. "I'm not gonna go rushing out the door to tell him, because I think we ought to strategise a little and find the best way to tell him so he doesn't fly right off the handle. But you have to tell him. Soon."

"I will," Julie promised, and meant it. She'd tell him what was going on just as soon as she knew herself.

***

Yawning, Julie opened her locker, flinching in surprise when a scrap of paper fluttered to the floor at her feet. She frowned; usually she tried to keep her locker tidy. She leaned down and picked it up. It was a note. Unfolding it, she recognized the messy scrawl immediately, and her throat tightened.

_Meet me in the parking lot._

It was unsigned, but Julie knew who it was from. She debated ignoring Tim and going to class for about thirty seconds before slamming her locker closed, scanning the hallway for teachers, and hurrying out the nearest exit. She walked out to the student parking lot and spotted his big black truck. Approaching it, she found him asleep in the driver's seat, his long legs stretched out across the cab to accommodate his height.

Julie walked around the truck and climbed in the unlocked passenger side, setting her bag down on the floor. He stayed sound asleep, even when she closed the door. She cleared her throat pertly and waited.

"Hunh?" Tim groaned, blinking his eyes as though the action pained him.

"Morning," Julie greeted, trying to suppress a smile and failing.

"Morning," Tim replied, smiling back at her.

"So, you asked me to meet you in the parking lot. What can I do for you?"

"Well," Tim said, clearing his throat and sitting up properly. "I guess I was wondering if you wanted to take a ride with me."

"I'd like that," Julie replied, feeling strangely shy. Tim nodded and started the engine, reversing and pulling out of the parking lot with a squeal of his tires.

They drove through Dillon past all the usual haunts, all the way out past the town limits. Tim turned onto a rutted dirt road, which eventually reached a dead end at a copse of trees.

Without a word, Tim got out of the truck and walked around to the front, stretching his arms and leaning against the truck's grill.

Julie jumped down from the cab and came around to the front of the truck. Glancing around, she noticed that beyond the trees there was an old swimming hole. All around them were fields of untended grasses, with no buildings or people in sight. The cool wind of early December blew around them. Jules shivered.

"So, is this the part where I find out that you're secretly a serial killer, and I have to defend myself with a shovel or something?"

"Nope," Tim smiled. "That part comes later. Come on."

Tim took her hand and walked towards the trees, leading her down a narrow path which wound through the trees to the edge of the small watering hole, where it widened into a little beach.

"It's beautiful," Julie said. "What is this place?"

"It's Tyra's uncle's hunting land," Tim shrugged, leaning down and picking up a couple of stones. He measured them idly in his hand before throwing them out at the water.

"Ah, so we're trespassing. What did we come here for, exactly?"

"Wanted to talk to you," he said, turning around.

"Okay," Julie nodded. "What about?"

"'Bout what's been going on, since after the game."

"Oh, right," Julie said casually, crossing her arms over her chest and blowing her bangs up out of her eyes. "_That_."

Tim squinted at her. "Are you mad?"

"I'm not mad. I'm just confused, I guess. We haven't talked about it. We haven't really, you know, decided anything."

"I know," Tim replied, scuffing his boot in the dirt. "I guess it was finals and everything, and I just..."

"What?"

"I wanted to figure out how to do it right."

"Do what right?"

He looked at her for a moment, looking more anxious than she'd ever seen him.

"Julie, do you wanna be my girlfriend?"

"I – what?"

"Come on – do you? We've been dancing around it for weeks. I like you. You gotta know by now that I like you. I more than... I don't know. I think I'm in love with you."

"You think so, do you?" Julie asked, trying not to smile at his awkwardness.

Tim glared. Smiling, Julie looked down, and took a step closer to him.

"Um, I think I might be in love with you, too."

Tim nodded once, looking down at her. Leaning in, he kissed her once, softly, before pulling back, his eyes scanning her face.

"I like your freckles," he said softly. "They're cute."

Julie blushed and looked away. "Um, thanks."

"I'm sorry I let you think I slept with that Katie girl, and about that whole thing in my truck, after that party," he said, apropos of nothing.

"I-huh?" Julie frowned, confused by the non-sequitur.

"I do dumb things when I'm drunk."

Julie stared at him, trying to keep up with his randomness. Obviously he'd been thinking about this, even if she hadn't. "Yeah, why _did_ you do that – the Katie thing?" she asked.

Tim stood back a little, scratching his head.

"I dunno," he frowned. "I guess I wanted to see what you'd do."

"Very tricky," Julie said with a nod. "Did it work?"

"Well, I figured out you were jealous," he smirked.

"Was I that obvious?"

"Kinda."

"I guess if I ever wonder how you feel, I'll just have to go see if I can't find someone to make out with," Julie said, smiling innocently. "Maybe Smash. He's pretty cute."

"Except I'll get suspended for breaking his face, and then all our hard work will be for nothing," he replied, smiling just as innocently.

"Good point," Julie conceded.

"Besides," Tim continued, "You've already seen what I do when I'm jealous – I just go around getting wasted and trying to pick fights and needing my girl to come rescue my dumb ass."

"Oh," Julie said. "So _that's_ what that was all about."

Tim shrugged, half embarrassed and half unrepentant.

"Guess we'll just have to learn how to talk to each other, like mature, responsible adults," Julie said.

"I'm not much of a talker," Tim said. "More of a show-er."

"So what does all this mean?" Julie asked.

"It means I want you to cut class this afternoon and see a movie with me."

"Skip class to go on a _date_?"

"Yeah."

"I should probably say no. I think I'm supposed to be the good influence," she said, frowning. "What's playing?"

"Who cares?"

"Not planning on watching the movie much?" Julie laughed.

"Nope," he smiled. "I've got way more important things to do in a movie theatre than watch some stupid movie."

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

"You're just gonna have to come with me to find out," he replied.

"I don't know," she said, wavering.

"I've got something to sweeten the deal," Tim said, turning suddenly and walking back to his truck.

Bemused, Julie followed him slowly, arriving in time to see him rummaging around in the glove compartment for something.

"Turn around," he called back to her.

Julie turned without protest, wondering what Tim was up to.

"Okay," Tim said, coming up behind her. "Turn around."

Julie turned to find Tim standing in front of her, a small bouquet of dahlias in one hand. She smiled.

"That's..." she almost wanted to say predictable, but knew it would crush him. Besides, he'd obviously done his homework – dahlias were her favourite. "That's really sweet of you."

Looking embarrassed, Tim held them out to her. Julie took the bouquet with both hands, admiring the combination of orange, red, and yellow, which made each blossom look like a fiery little sunset.

"They're beautiful, Tim," she said, looking up at him. She smiled at the worried expression on his face. "What – did you think I wouldn't like them?"

He shrugged, looking away from her.

Impulsively, she stepped forward and kissed him quickly on the lips before wrapping her arms around him and hugging him tightly.

"I love them," she mumbled into his shoulder.

"Good," he replied gruffly, hugging her back and sighing. "Thought they'd get ruined in the glove compartment."

"They're perfect," Julie said, reluctantly letting him go and stepping back. "They're perfect and I love them and I'm going to dry them and put them in my hope chest and cherish them forever. So you can stop fishing for compliments." She smiled widely, taking the sting out of her playful words. She knew all too well how sensitive Tim could be.

"All right, all right," Tim said, rolling his eyes and grabbing her hand in his. "How 'bout that movie?"


	10. Chapter 10

"Sure you don't want a burger or something?" Tim asked, his voice hopeful, as he pulled into the end of her driveway.

"No, thanks. It's been a crazy couple of weeks, and I think I owe my parents a family night or something," Julie replied, sending a sidelong glance his way. She caught the slight downturn of his mouth, and was quietly pleased at the thought that he didn't want their date to end yet. "I'd invite you in, but I think maybe we might want to hold off on that whole conversation, you know?"

Tim put the truck into park, leaving the engine running and looking at her house contemplatively. "You're gonna tell them, though, right?"

Julie knew what he was really asking. She looked at him for a moment, waited to speak until she caught his eye. "Don't worry," she said. "You're not my dirty secret."

He looked away, his only response a little nod.

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" Julie unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned across the cab, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Okay," he said, his voice very low. "Night, Jules."

Julie wanted very badly to kiss him again, but she restrained herself, instead merely smiling once more at him before hopping out of the truck.

Feeling as light as air, Julie walked up to the house. Standing on the front step, she turned to look back at Tim. She unlocked the door, waved once at him, and watched as he waved back before pulling away. She held her flowers in her hand, thinking that she'd have to get them in water soon, for they were already somewhat the worse for wear, having spent the morning in Tim's truck and the afternoon in a dark movie theatre.

Her good mood evaporated, however, when she entered the house and found both of her parents standing in the foyer, arms crossed over their chests in eerily similar expressions of annoyance and disapproval.

"Hi," Julie greeted them meekly. "What's for dinner? Smells good."

"Don't you try to butter me up, young lady," Tami said, shaking her head angrily. "Just where the hell have you been?"

"What?" Julie protested, immediately defensive. She knew she was in trouble – her mother only cursed when she was really upset. "I didn't break curfew."

"No, you just skipped half a day's worth of classes," Tami replied. "Your father and I both work at your school, Julie. It's not like you can hide it."

Exasperated, Julie rolled her eyes. "It was only two classes, and besides – finals are over. It's only a few more days until Christmas vacation, anyway."

"Doesn't matter," her father interjected. "You're supposed to be in class, you had better be in class. Where the hell were you?"

"I was out."

"Out?" Tami repeated, her voice rising. "Out where? With whom?"

"Were you out with that girl again?" Eric asked. "What's her name – Tara? Tina?"

"Her name is _Tyra_, Dad, and no, I wasn't out with her," Julie scowled at her father, before glancing over at her mother. Tami was looking at her very closely. She glanced down at the flowers in Julie's hand, then back up at her face, comprehension dawning. Julie gulped.

"I know _exactly_ who you were with," Tami bit out.

"Mom-" Julie began.

"Who?" Eric interrupted. "Who was she with?"

"I want you to look right at me and tell me the truth, Julie," her mother said, her face deadly serious. "Did you skip school with Tim Riggins today?"

Julie glared at her mother, knowing she was trapped. "Yes," she replied, dropping her eyes to the floor.

"Riggins?" her father exclaimed. "Tim Riggins? Why the hell are you skipping school with _Tim Riggins_? I thought y'all were done tutoring."

"Julie?" her mother asked, looking at her daughter expectantly. "You might as well tell us both what's going on, for real, because sneaking around obviously isn't working out so great for you."

Eric looked at his wife and then at his daughter, bewildered.

Julie heaved a huge sigh. "I skipped with Tim because... Because we're going out. Tim's, um, my boyfriend. As of today." She winced, waiting for the explosion.

It came, so predictable that it would have been funny, if it weren't for the fact that Julie was pretty sure it meant she'd never see Tim Riggins or the light of day ever again.

"Are you kidding me? Going out? Boyfriend?" her father shouted. "If you think there is a snowball's chance in hell that you're going to be allowed to go anywhere with _Tim Riggins_ ever again, you've got another thing coming."

"Dad!" Julie shouted back. "You can't do that! Besides, he's _your_ fullback, so if he's such a delinquent, why is he on your football team? Why did you let him stay here? Why did you let me tutor him? Huh?"

"Don't take that tone with me, young lady," Eric snapped.

"All right, all right," Tami said, coming between the two of them. "Enough is enough. Julie, go to your room. We'll discuss this later."

Julie turned and stomped to her room, barely resisting the strong urge to slam the door behind her. She threw her bag on the ground, and flung herself dramatically across the bed.

She could concede that skipping school had been a bad idea, and an even worse one now, as she realised the consequences it might have for her and Tim even being allowed to see each other. Too bad Tim always made these things sound like such a good idea at the time. Julie sighed and rolled over, reaching into her bag and fishing out her cell phone. Scrolling through her contacts, she found Tim's home phone number and selected it.

The phone rang as Julie silently urged Tim to pick up the phone. They had made a date for the next day, Saturday, and she wanted to warn him not to come pick her up, but that she'd meet him somewhere else. Clearly it was not the time for him to come knocking at the Taylors' door.

A mechanical click sounded in her ear, and an automatic recording began. _We're sorry, but the number you are dialling is not in service. Please hang up, and try your call again. This is a recording._

Sighing, Julie clicked the "end" button and threw her phone back into her bag. It looked like Billy hadn't paid the phone bill again.

Julie stood up and crept over to her bedroom door, pressing her ear against it. She could hear her parents' voices in the living room, but they were speaking softly enough that she couldn't hear what they were saying.

She wandered back to her bed, sitting down with a despondent sigh. It would be a miracle if she was allowed to see Tim again, never mind date him.

***

It was Saturday morning, and Tim was on his way over to the Taylors' to pick Julie up for their second official date – their first one had consisted of the two of them making out in the back row during a matinee showing of _Enchanted_, which Tim considered a very successful first date indeed. Even though Julie kept shoving him away and trying to pay attention to the movie, smirking all the while.

Tim knocked on the Taylors' front door. When it opened and revealed Coach standing on the other side, his stomach sank. He'd been hoping he might somehow be able to avoid this confrontation for, well, ever.

"I want to talk to you," Coach said in a low, steady voice as he stepped out onto the front stoop and closed the door behind him.

"Yes, sir," Tim mumbled, stepping back and running an anxious hand through his hair.

"Now, my wife informs me that you and my daughter have some kind of _thing_ going on. I didn't want to jump to any conclusions and think that you would abuse our trust and hospitality in such a way, so I thought I'd give you the benefit of the doubt and provide you with an opportunity to tell me that my wife is, for once in her life, mistaken."

Tim gulped. He'd known Coach Taylor long enough to know that when he went on this way and stood there with his arms crossed, working his jaw, he was well and truly pissed off.

"Uh, the thing is, Coach, she's not mistaken."

Coach exhaled harshly through his nose, like an angry dog. "You wanna tell me what the hell is going on, here, then?"

"Well, I guess what's going on is I'd like to ask permission to date your daughter, sir."

"You'd like to ask my permission to date my daughter," Coach repeated.

"Yes, sir."

"You understand how this looks to me, don't you? You're not ignorant of that?"

"No, sir. I mean, yeah, I know how it looks."

"All right then, explain to me why I shouldn't go back in there and tell Julie that under no circumstances is she to talk to you, look at you, or even acknowledge your existence ever again?"

"Because," Tim shrugged, "you and I both know that if you did, Jules'd go right ahead and do what she wanted to do, anyway."

Coach glared. "I don't expect you to understand this, but that is my daughter in there. _My daughter_. There is nothing in the world more important to me than Julie and Gracie. They are both very special."

"I know she's special, that she's special to you and Mrs. Coach. Thing is, she's special to me, too. She's real special to me, Coach."

Coach didn't reply for a moment, just continued to glare at Tim, his jaw clenched. Finally, he spoke.

"I do not like this. I am not going to pretend to like it. You are extremely fortunate that my wife is on your side, because if it wasn't for her, you'd be long gone and Julie would be halfway to an all-girls school for juvenile delinquents in New England."

Tim stared at Coach, afraid to hope.

"If you harm a hair on her head, or treat her in any wrong fashion, or if you ever hurt her or make her cry, I will make your life miserable. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir," Tim rasped, relieved.

"Glad we understand each other," Coach said, turning to head back into the house. Tim made as though to follow him, but Coach stopped and turned back. Tim stared.

"You can head home," Coach said. "Julie's grounded for skipping school."

Coach went into the house and shut the door behind him, a little too firmly. Tim stood for a moment, scratching his head, before sighing and heading back to his truck.

Dating a girl whose parents actually kept an eye on her was going to be more of an adjustment than he'd thought.

***

Julie spent Saturday in her bedroom, alternately reading, texting Lois and Tyra, and staring bleakly at her bookshelves. Finals were over, so she didn't even have anything to study.

Tim was supposed to come pick her up at one o'clock, but he hadn't shown up yet. She wouldn't be allowed to go anywhere anyway, but she couldn't help but wonder if maybe he'd forgotten about their date.

Sighing, she rolled over on her bed, trying to think of something she could do to amuse herself that didn't involve thinking about Tim Riggins. She'd read all the books she had already, and her parents weren't letting her use the TV or the internet. Maybe she could reread _House of Leaves_ again.

A familiar rumble out on the street had her up and at the window in a flash, craning to see the front of the house. Unfortunately, all she could see was the side of her neighbour's house.

The engine of Tim's truck shut off, and a second later, she heard the front door open and close. She stood anxiously in the middle of her room, straining to hear anything, but she couldn't. Debating the prospect of climbing out her window and sneaking around the front of the house to eavesdrop, Julie heaved a frustrated sigh. She hated the idea of Tim being subjected to her father's irrational craziness without her there to defend him.

Less than five minutes later, the front door opened and closed once again, and the engine of Tim's truck started with a low purr. She listened as the truck's noise faded into the afternoon. Her shoulders sagged for a moment before she heard her parents' voices in the other room. Walking over to her bedroom door, she pressed her ear against it, trying to hear what they were saying.

She jumped in surprise when, a moment later, a knock sounded on the other side of the door, right next to her head. Moving away, she cleared her throat, preparing herself for the onslaught.

"Come in," she said.

The door opened and her dad's head appeared, his hair standing up – a sure sign of frustration and contemplation.

"I need to talk to you," he said, coming into the room and closing the door behind him.

"Okay," Julie shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. She wasn't sure why; she felt anything but apathetic about what was about to happen. Maybe she wanted her dad to think that his opinion of her love life didn't matter to her.

"Tim was just here," he said, his hands on his hips, looking – to Julie's surprise – about as anxious as she felt.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. You two have plans today?"

"Yeah, we did," Julie replied, idly running her toes through the carpet and avoiding her father's gaze.

"I told him you're grounded again."

Julie huffed, embarrassed, but didn't say anything.

"Can't say I'm not surprised that Tim's someone you want to spend your time with," he said.

"Yeah, well, you don't know everything there is to know about him," Julie said defensively, struggling to keep her voice down. There was no point in getting angry; she'd figured that much out about dealing with her parents.

"Neither do you," he replied, obviously struggling to do the same. "I'm not saying he's not a good kid. I just... What's wrong with Matt Saracen, anyway?"

"Nothing's wrong with Matt," Julie shrugged. "It's... I messed it up, okay? I screwed up, and it can't be fixed, and he moved on. Anyway, this has nothing to do with Matt."

"It doesn't?"

Julie looked up at her father, confused. "No, it doesn't! What, do you think I'm with Tim to get back at Matt or something?"

"I don't know," he replied, running a hand through his hair. "Look – your mother and I just don't want you to get hurt. We want you to be with people who want good things for you, too. We're just trying to understand."

"I just like him," Julie mumbled, "and he likes me. That's all."

Her father just looked at her for a long time, his eyes soft.

"All right," he said, finally. "But there are gonna be rules. You're to be home by eleven on the weekends. No going over to Tim's house; I'm well aware that expecting Billy Riggins to act as chaperone is next to useless. No drinking. No dates on school nights."

"Does tutoring count as a date?" Julie asked, teasing.

Eric scowled. "All tutoring is going to happen at our house, in the living room, hands on the table."

"Dad!"

"_Well_," he grumbled. "Come here."

He pulled her into a tight hug. "You make sure he makes you happy. If you're not happy, you shouldn't be with him."

Julie smiled against her father's chest. "I will."

"All right, then," he said gruffly, turning to go. "You're still grounded, but your mother and I would like to have Tim over tomorrow night."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. If my daughter's going to be dating Tim Riggins, I want him where I can see him."

***

Tim stared up at his bedroom ceiling, idly spinning a football in his hands. He was disappointed that his and Julie's date that afternoon hadn't worked out, and he hoped she knew that he hadn't just stood her up.

He was thinking that he ought to insist that Billy get the phone reconnected when he was disturbed by a persistent tapping sound. Looking over at his window, a face peering in from outside startled him.

"Jules?" he asked, getting up off the bed and opening the window, "What are you doing here? Coach's gonna kill me."

"I couldn't sleep," she replied, grabbing the window frame and hauling herself into the room. "I was too... I don't know. Excited, I guess."

"Yeah?" he asked, squinting at her in the dim light. "Why're you excited?"

"'Cause my parents said it was okay for us to go out," she said, standing up straight and beaming at him.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah," she replied, brushing past him to sit down on his bed and glancing around the cluttered, messy room. "I like what you've done with the place."

"Thanks," he smiled, taking in the sight of Julie sitting comfortably on his bed, like that was a normal thing. Which he guessed it was, since they were dating now. He cleared his throat.

"Come here," Julie said, motioning at the empty space beside her. Tim obliged, sitting down next to her and resting his elbows on his knees. He couldn't believe how nervous he felt. Everything had changed between them; nothing was the same as it was before. He frowned down at the grungy carpet between his feet. What if they ruined the friendship they had by trying to make it something else? It had happened to him before, it could happen again.

"Hey," Julie said softly, nudging him with her arm. He looked up to find her watching him, an amused look on her face. "You wanna know something?"

Tim nodded.

"I was sitting right here when I realised I liked you," she said.

"Yeah?" he said, not sure how he was supposed to respond. He was never sure what to do when people started talking about _feelings_.

"Yeah," Julie replied. "It was that night that I snuck over, after your dad came. I sat here and looked at you and thought, 'Oh no, I really just want to kiss him right now. Awkward.'"

"You wanted to put the moves on me that long ago?" he asked, smiling at her.

"Sure," she replied. "I pretty much wanted to do _this_."

Julie brushed Tim's hair out of his eyes with one hand, while reaching for his with the other. Lacing her fingers loosely with his, she moved in close and kissed him.

"Hm," Tim mumbled a minute later, when they broke away. "Wonder what woulda happened if you'd gone ahead and done it then."

"I don't know," Julie laughed. "It probably would have made all those study sessions a little difficult."

"They already were difficult," Tim griped.

"Oh, come on," Julie said, bumping her shoulder against him playfully. "It wasn't that hard, and you did great. You're smarter than you give yourself credit for."

"I didn't mean the schoolwork. I meant sitting across that damn table from you all the time while you're sitting there, busting my ass, your cute nose all scrunched up. It was torture."

"Oh," Julie breathed, blushing.

"You didn't even know that you were driving me crazy," Tim said, his voice low. He leaned in close, kissing her again.

Julie kissed him back, a little more aggressively than before, and he soon found himself once again being straddled by Julie Taylor while he placed hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck.

He felt more than heard her soft groan as it vibrated against his chest. Julie's hands slid down his torso and unbuttoned his shirt, tugging impatiently at it until he got the hint and tossed it aside.

Feeling that turnabout was fair play, Tim divested Julie of her hoodie and her t-shirt, leaving her clad only in a simple, teal-coloured bra. With a shiver, goose bumps popped up along her arms. Tim leaned in and kissed her collarbone, intent on leaving a bruise there for her to find later.

"Are you giving me a hickey?" Julie asked breathlessly, tangling her hands in his hair. Tim suppressed a groan. He loved that.

"Mmm-hmm," he mumbled in response.

"Hmph," she said. "That's very caveman of you."

Tim shrugged, sucking harder and running his hands down her bare back to grip her denim-covered backside. This time it was Julie who groaned, before pulling away from him and meeting his lips with her own. Spreading his hands across her back, Tim turned them both onto the bed so that he had Julie pinned, their jeans the only barrier between them. Julie shifted her hips to accommodate his, and Tim couldn't help himself; he thrust against her, once.

Julie gasped, breaking their kiss.

"Sorry," Tim said, looking down at her surprised face. She blinked, the prettiest blush staining her cheeks and her neck.

"It's okay," she said. "It's just that I've never really... You know."

Tim looked into her wide brown eyes, her pupils huge in the dim light. "I thought you and Saracen... You never...?"

Julie looked flustered. "No, we didn't."

"Oh," he replied, suddenly feeling more apprehensive in this situation than he had in a very long time. He pulled back slightly, and watched as Julie's face turned an even darker shade of rose.

"You don't have to – it's fine," she stammered. "I mean, I don't want to do _that_ right now, but you don't have to stop what you're doing. You know?"

Tim blew out a tense breath. He tucked one hand up under Julie's head, burying it in her hair, before running the other down her bare arm. Watching her face closely, he shifted his hips and thrust against her again.

She gasped again, her legs sliding up to grip his hips. Tim moaned at the close contact, his head dropping to her shoulder.

"This okay?" he asked, his lips brushing her ear. He thrust against her yet again, his hips finding a slow, shallow rhythm.

"Uh huh," she replied on another gasp, her fingernails digging into his shoulders.

Tim kissed his way across her chest, finding his way back to the spot he'd been concentrating on before.

"That's not fair," Julie mumbled, wiggling away from him to find a spot of her own to mark. Her teeth scraped across his collarbone, and Tim jolted.

"What are _you_ doin', now?" he rumbled.

"Paying you back," she said, her breath hot against his skin. "Seeing as it's sort of impractical to tattoo 'RALLY GIRLS – NO TRESPASSING' on your forehead."

Tim laughed, rolling them both and relaxing against his pillows so that Julie was half sprawled across his chest. "I ain't gonna stop you," he said, running an idle hand through her long, silky hair.

They stayed that way for a while, kissing and quietly exploring each other. Tim was just pondering getting Julie's bra out of their way when she sighed and pulled away.

"I'd better go," she said. "Can't risk getting caught sneaking out, at this point."

"Think your dad's gonna be okay with it?" Tim asked gruffly, putting a bit of space between them.

"Yeah, I mean, he's not over the moon about it," Julie said, settling on her side to look at him. "But he'll come around once he remembers that you're, you know... You."

Tim tried not to let it show, how much that comment pleased him, but it didn't work. Julie grinned at him before reaching over and gently brushing the hair out of his eyes. Tim decided he'd never cut his hair short, not ever, if it meant she wouldn't be able to do that anymore.

"Come over tomorrow afternoon, okay?" she said.

"You sure? Thought you were grounded."

"I am, but that doesn't mean I can't see my... boyfriend," she said quietly, as though she was testing the new term, like dipping her toes into a swimming pool.

"Boyfriend," Tim repeated, doing the same.

Julie smiled at him again. "It's late – I've really gotta go. Don't want to fan the flames."

"I'll give you a ride," Tim said. He sat up, grabbing his shirt and sloppily buttoning it. Behind him, he could hear Julie rustling about, retrieving her own clothes, and was surprised at the thrill it gave him.

"It's okay," she said. "I found a shortcut." She pulled her t-shirt and her hoodie back over her head, then quickly leaned up to kiss him. "Besides, I'm pretty sure my dad's developing a sixth sense for the sound of your truck within a three block radius."

She left the same way she arrived, climbing out of his bedroom window and standing between a couple of dead dogwoods planted next to the house. She poked her head back in the window.

"Goodnight," she said, smiling at him.

"Night," he said, coming over to the window and watching as she turned and disappeared into the darkness. He stood there for several minutes after she'd gone, just staring out the window.

Finally, he turned and collapsed face-first on his bed, heaving a deep, contented sigh. He breathed in the smell of his sheets; they smelled like their familiar bed smell, but now with liberal overtones of sweat and _Julie_.

He thought about the way she'd moved against him only minutes ago, the way she moaned and the way he responded to her. Remembering the sweet sensation of her body pressed up tightly against his, he groaned.

Sleep was going to be a long way off tonight.

***

"Honey, you tear those lettuce leaves any more roughly and we're gonna be having mulch, not salad."

"Sorry," Julie mumbled, frowning down at the mangled leaves sitting in the colander in front of her. It was Sunday afternoon, and Tim was due to come over any minute now. For the last hour, she'd been growing steadily more tense, pleased that her parents were trying for her sake, but worried that Tim would be too nervous, and get all weird and avoidant like he sometimes did.

"Relax," her mother said softly to her, carrying a small stack of plates and bowls out to the table.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" Julie yelped, tearing out of the kitchen to beat her parents to the door. She slid to a stop in the foyer, and opened the door to find Tim standing on the doorstep.

"You're here," she said, smiling. She cocked her head at him. "Did you comb your hair?"

"Yeah," he replied, reaching up to touch his hair self-consciously. "Billy said I should."

"You look nice," she said.

"You too," he replied, his eyes landing on the long-sleeved t-shirt she'd put on to cover the extremely obvious hickey on her collarbone. He smirked at her.

Julie looked away shyly.

"Tim, you have any dinner yet?" Tami called from the kitchen.

"No, ma'am," he replied, lingering in the foyer.

"We're having chili," Coach's voice piped up. "Come on in here and set the table."

Julie smiled at him, her expression encouraging.

"Come on," she said, holding out her hand to him. "Don't be nervous."

Tim closed the door, and came into the house.


End file.
